The Butcher's Bill
by bpmitche
Summary: The Butcher of Torfan - her life and times. Rated STRONG M for language, adult themes and situations, and violence. Vignette-based story that looks at how a Renegade FemShep and Tali might find love in a galaxy of loss. Covers pregame through ending, replacing and expanding on the end of Mass Effect 3. Smut, D/s, violence, more smut; you have been warned.
1. The Butcher

A/N: The Mass Effect universe is … compelling, to say the least. As someone who grew up reading the classics of science fiction – with emphasis on the science – I found the internal consistency of the games refreshing, intriguing, engrossing. It felt like the kind of world that Heinlein or Niven would have created, populated with deep characters and consistent details.

That changed with the ending to Mass Effect 3. In moments, the game went from internally consistent rules-based science futurism story to a kind of hand-waving space magic fantasy. Naturally, I rebelled. This work is, unapologetically, an attempt to resolve the ending for myself – a kind of urgent NEED to reach conclusion about the story that so immersed me. This is entirely my own head-cannon, and I admit as much; I have begun with what my interpretation of Shepard's early career might be like. I played as Colonist / Ruthless (and renegade), and thought it might be interesting to look at the foundational moment in her career that (for me) defined the rest of her actions through all three games.

Ch1 is set before the events of the games. Ch2 is set during ME1, CH3 is set during ME2. CH4 is set during ME2's DLC, up through Arrival. CH5 is set during the opening to ME3. CH6 and CH7 are set during ME3, and CH8 is set after.

I won't summarize the events of the gameplay itself. I assume that if you're here, reading this, you're probably as intimately familiar with the names and places as I am. Throughout this work, I have based my descriptions of Tali on this image: (( i99 . mindmix . ru / masseffect - universe _ph / 31 / 485777565 . jpg )) and my own views about Quarian physiology and anatomy. These views are based on the information in the Mass Effect Wikia, which I highly recommend, but are of course my own headcannon.

This is my first work of fiction; all reviews are appreciated.

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8 July 2178

Arcturus Naval Station – Arcturus Stream Mass Relay Hub

"This Board of Inquiry is convened for the evaluation of the field report of Lieutenant Shepard, 1st Naval Marines, on detached duty to SSV Lyons. This board will come to order."

The whispering in the gallery continued through the pounding of the gavel. The Board sat in their dress blues behind wooden faces and wooden railings; the gallery looked down from above. It could have been a painting in a chapel back on Earth, if all the angels had been military brass. This was supposed to be a closed hearing, but the news had gotten out too fast to be kept quiet. Some of the eyes looking down were curious, some were angry. Every now and then a more emphatic word would slip out – "Butcher" they whispered; "Murderer" they said.

"Lieutenant Shepard, you have submitted a field report detailing your ICT N6 Field Operations Deployment to Torfan. This board requires you to elaborate on your statements so that …."

Flashback: 18 June 2178

She always got the shakes.

ICT had mostly beaten it out of her, of course, but she still got them. It was the open secret of the Marines – everybody gets the shakes. The Alliance Marines were, arguably, the finest fighting force ever produced by humanity; she believed it. The Kodiak drop-shuttle she was strapped into was the most robust, durable, grunt-approved dropship the navy had ever fielded; she believed that too. The Batarian state-sponsored pirates operating out of this base could in no way have the equipment to detect the approach of the dozen dropships coming around the night side of this little moon; she wasn't sure she believed that. And at the root of every case of the shakes was one simple, nagging realization: no matter how good a soldier you are when the boots hit the ground, you're just so much ablative armor while you're in your dropship. The smarter soldiers always had the worst shakes, she'd found, but she hadn't shared this observation with anyone. The Lieutenants bars on her collar were too shiny to start mouthing off like that.

The rattling of the Kodiak was getting worse. Atmospheric turbulence was starting to be felt through the intertial compensators, which meant they were close to landing. She looked left to her CO, Major Kyle. He looked calm. He wasn't shaking. She filed that away for future reference.

The shuttles touched down minutes away from the terminator line, the pirate base reflecting the harsh sunlight clearly even from dozens of klicks away. As the troops stormed out of their shuttles to take up their first positions, the thin atmosphere seemed smudge-stained by the dust kicked up from their landing. It was like looking through an ancient piece of plate-glass, and she hated it instinctively

"Tehops and Mica, quit fucking around and get moving up this ridge! I want LOPpers up and going in 15 minutes. On the bounce!" Her voice crackled across the comm sets of the unit. The words were angry, but the voice held no menace – only a professional dispassion. Her men moved off with brisk acknowledgements, their packs heavy with Listening and Observation Post quick-deploy arrays. It didn't look like the Batarians even knew the marines had landed, but she wasn't going to take chances. Major Kyle was only now strolling out of the shuttle, looking around with an open and curious face, seemingly oblivious to the marines moving around him. The first of the shuttles was already starting to lift off again - Kodiak's were less than useless on the ground, and her team was supposed to be providing on the ground scouting and recon for the Lyons. The last shuttle dusted off as soon as the Major had cleared the field perimeter. She filed that away for later, too.

Forward: Arcturus Naval Station

The gavel was banging again, struggling to be heard over the whispers. Insubordinate. Obstinate. Butcher. Murderer.

"Lieutenant Shepard, please detail for us your first contact with Batarian patrols. Your report states that you first made contact with the Batarian forces 16 hours after arriving at Torfan, is that correct?"

Her voice was bold, strong. It rang across the hearing chamber as though she knew she was being watched, weighed, judged, recorded, broadcast across the Systems. "Yessir, one of my squad was discovered by their patrol … "

Flashback

"Nichols, get down, get … !" her shout was cut off in her throat as the rocket caught Nichols full in the chest. It detonated on his armor, shredding his chest and fusing his armor to his skin. He was long dead before he crashed into the gravelly sand underfoot. She rolled to the side and fired, two short bursts that punched right through the Batarian's armor. She ran forward, kicked off his still gurgling corpse, dove over him and behind his squadmates. Two more bursts, and they were dead. It was the last of them here. It was the 20th of June.

/- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /-

The two companies of marines under her command were primed and ready. The Alliance had accidentally stumbled onto a hell of a fight, and was rushing to fill the breach with bodies. Shepard had destroyed the above-ground base on day 4 by using one of her squads to detonate their powerplant while the other two created the convincing appearance of a full-frontal assault on the fortified above-ground hangar. It had worked – as soon as the power was down, the automated defense guns quit firing. The Batarians panicked. The survivors of the two squads at the front door held position until the demolition squad could hit from behind.

There were no Batarian survivors; she'd seen to that.

She remembered the looks on the faces of some of her men – Sergeant Mica was particularly unhappy. She had tried explaining to them that they didn't have the manpower to guard surrendering prisoners; she had tried reminding them of the Blitz, and the atrocities committed on Elysium. Ultimately, she had coldly announced that her squads were to set up camp in the hangar and work on breaking into the rest of the base. She drew her pistol.

Now, they had access to the rest of the base and all the other hangar facilities they discovered. The moon was honeycombed with them, thousands of Batarians and hundreds of raiders. Gunships, troop transports – some with the Batarian Hegemony's military markings still painted on – stood waiting in their hangars as the Batarian and Krogan troops fought needle-fang and claw for every blasted meter of corridor. The Alliance owned the local space, so the fight was already over – why couldn't the damn pirates just realize that?

A tap on her helmet made her turn. Mica had bought it taking down a gunship on the surface to cover the landing of another two dozen Kodiaks; her ragged platoon was tasked with holding the beachhead so the rest of the marines could join the party, and Mica got the job done. Her new Sergeant, Henkley, was still getting the hang of the job. He gestured, a complicated motion for any marine, and Shepard nodded. She clicked her mike twice and watched her squad tense up for action. It was the 25th of June.

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"Lieutenant, you can't possibly be suggesting this. This is suicide!" Major Kyle had survived the fighting thus far by leading from the rear and looking helpless. Shepard wondered if his ammo brick had even been shaved, but put the thought out of her mind as counterproductive.

"Sir, with all due respect, this is the only option. The pirates are fighting a war of attrition, and we can't afford to keep taking losses like a bleeding wound. We need to seal some of these tunnels, channelize their attacks into places where we have positional superiority. If we send two demo teams here and here …" but she was already being cut off. Kyle was shaking his head sharply.

"No, Lieutenant, I won't commit my men to something like this. Bottling the pirates up in the facilities below – who knows how long they'd last down there? And the collapsing tunnels could have repercussions for us, as well."

"Sir, we don't have a choice. We can't hold this position much longer without reinforcements, and Command has made it clear that their priority is getting to the data and communications center as quickly as possible. We're not going to get any more men, but we _are_ going to be overrun if we don't do something here."

"I just won't do it, Lieutenant. We'll think of something else." She was stalking away before Kyle finished speaking, back stiff and head high. He turned and peered down at their operational map.

_Does he think the answer is going to appear to him like a vision, the longer he stares?_ Shepard wasn't religious, so the idea of 'praying for an answer' seemed like defeatist fantasy. She rejoined the rest of her squad by the almost-natural tunnel they were supposed to be guarding; it was quiet now, but only until the next wave of pirates worked up the courage to come charging out of the darkness. Her face turned sour – if only it were just Batarians now, but those Krogan were nearly unstoppable. She was tired of losing men.

Henkley's voice was quiet as he met her coming back. "Any word, ma'am?"

"No, damn it all. That spineless milk-sucker giving the orders refuses to blow the tunnels; says it's too dangerous for us, and we'd just make more work for ourselves having to dig out the pirates. Dig them out!" her snort of disgust was matched by some of the more cynical under her command. They knew the situation as well as she did.

/- /- /- /-

It was night, but the only way to tell was by looking at the color of the lights strung up behind their defensive barricades. Shepard was touching helmets with Henkley and Vala, crouched over a bare space of dirt. That they were talking was obvious – that they weren't using the radio was curious.

"… and set off the charges. Take a couple of men with you, each, to keep the pirates off your back. I don't care if it's your last act in this life, you close those tunnels. Am I understood?" Shepard looked up through her visor, locking eyes with the man and woman she was ordering to their deaths.

Henkley looked pale, like he was about to be sick in his helmet. Vala was much calmer about the whole thing; it had been her idea to go now, when the pirates would be massing for another push. "Hope we can catch some of those four eyed piranha in the cave-in, ma'am. Save some bullets." Vala had laughed softly at her own comment, and Shepard grinned wide. She liked Vala – a woman after her own heart.

"Okay. Take whoever volunteers, and go. Good luck." They stood, and clasped hands over their dusty battle-map on the ground. Henkley swallowed. "Ma'am, if we don't … well, it's been a real honor to serve with you. You're one tough bitch, if you'll forgive me saying so – we need more like you." Shepard returned his crisp salute and watched him trot off.

"Well, I don't know about an _honor_ to serve, but it's been a pleasure." Vala's gauntlet came down hard on Shepard's shoulders, and the two women shared a quick look. "Hope to see you on the other side."

Shepard watched Vala stride off, and closed her eyes. It had to be done. There was no other choice.

/- /- /-

The explosion shook the lights loose around their tunnels and the marines clenched up on their rifles, not knowing what fresh hell was about to come pouring out. Thick plumes of dust rolled in, each one accompanied by a distant crash or rumble; the air in their cavern was so thick with dust that Shepard couldn't even see her men. She switched to thermal scanning just in time to watch the warm form of Major Kyle come bounding toward her.

"What have you done, Lieutenant!" he screamed at her, waving his hand at the tunnel entrances. "What have you done!?"

Something snapped, and she stepped up into Kyle's space. "I did what I goddamn had to do, SIR." She sneered the word through clenched teeth. "You weren't willing to do what needed to be done, so I did it for you. Put it in your goddamn log if you want to, but I did what needed to be done." It was the 30th of June.

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She was riding back in another Kodiak, alone with her thoughts. Not many people had wanted to be in the same shuttle with her, in case the dark cloud of impending court-martial came down on them, too. But it didn't matter – she was finally off that rock, and she was still breathing.

The explosions in the lower tunnels had taken out several key points of attack for the Batarian pirates. It wasn't known how many of them died in the rubble, or who died of water or air loss in the sealed chambers. What they did know was that after the collapse, the fighting was instantly different; the pirates fought with a resigned lethargy, easy prey for over-hyped marines. The comm room was breached, and the computers dumped. Some squads had taken prisoners, and these were methodically rounded up and taken for military trial. Shepard's squad had none to add to the line.

Major Kyle had almost shut down after the blasts. Shepard had been forced to assume command of all three squads, or what was left of them. She'd lost 78% of the troops under her command in all the fighting, but it was done. Done. It was the 3rd of July.

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9 July 2178 - Arcturus Naval Station

"This hearing will come to order. Lieutenant Shepard, please rise."

The banging of the gavel matched the pounding in her heart as she stood. She looked resolutely ahead, ignoring the loud whispering. How could whispers from the gallery be so loud in her ears?

"This Board has sat in recess, and we have reached a preliminary conclusion. Have you anything else to add before this Board renders its findings?"

"Yes sir, just one thing. I did what I had to do to get the job done, sir."

The admirals looked at each other, exchanging glances. "Very well. This board will now render its findings and judgment." The hearing room was finally silent – all whispering suspended as the gallery waited to hear the pronouncement.

"Lieutenant Shepard, you are found to have acted in the best interests of the Alliance, in accordance with stated military doctrine and toward the furtherance of our military goals in this theater of operations. Your report is accepted as-is, and this matter is closed. Furthermore, you will report to ICT Facility in Vila Militar for formal debriefing of your N6 field mission. Dismissed!"

The last half of the pronouncement would only be discovered by reading the transcripts later. At the announcement of her innocence, the gallery had exploded into shouts and Shepard had broken into a slow smile – her faith in the Alliance command restored. They understood what it would take for Humanity to secure its future in the Galaxy. She couldn't help but turn and look for Major Kyle, to see what his reaction to all this would be – but she missed him, catching just a glimpse of him as he turned away. No matter – she'd been exonerated. She'd catch up with him some other time.


	2. The Spectre

Sometimes, she wanted to scream. It would be futile, because the goal of screaming would be to reduce stress – but the sound of the commanding officer shrieking like a banshee in her cabin would get every crewman on deck 2 running right to her door. So, instead, she lay with her head covered by her pillow and tried to breathe. It was the start of the 3rd watch, 4 May 2183.

Virmire had been … hard. She knew she'd made the right call, but it was weighing on her fiercely. She'd left Alenko to die, because she needed to make sure that bomb went off. That meant returning to cover Williams. Logically. Nevermind that she'd been captivated by Ash's hips on Eden Prime, that she found herself bringing her along in places where she could have used someone else. Ignore that nagging whisper that said she left Alenko to burn because she wanted to tumble Williams into the sack. Pretend she didn't love the grateful look in Ash's eyes when she came back through the gates. Forget that she cut off her comm before she had to hear Kaidan gurgle out his last.

She stood and stretched, feeling the ache of too much stress, too little shore leave. She'd been chasing Saren for what, two months? It felt like she'd been cooped up on this ship forever. She sighed again and pulled on her uniform jacket. If she wasn't going to sleep, the least she could do was make the rounds, make sure her crew was holding up okay.

She had a pattern, and the running joke was that she was so predictable that you could set your watch by her rounds. Start in the cockpit, and trade quips with joker – 3 minutes. Move aft, and check up on Pressly. Remind him that the aliens onboard were pulling more than their fair share, then invite him to join her for poker night – 5 minutes. Down onto deck 2 and straight into the med-bay for "vitamins" with Dr. Chakwas. These vitamins were delicious and expensive at 275 creds a bottle, but the doctor only bought the best for the troops; 18 minutes trading war stories. Back into the research room to confer with the Asari – 6 minutes. At 32 minutes past the hour, precisely, she'd be waiting for the elevator to head down to the lower deck. 8 minutes to talk with Wrex, trading barbs and practicing her headbutt; 5 minutes with Garrus, imparting her cynical outlook on life and trying to get him to loosen up. 10 minutes with Williams – discussing poetry, the military life, the deployments they'd seen. 3 minutes in the engine room, then back to the elevator. The only change was the loss of the 4 minute check-in with Alenko by her cabin; the crew deliberately avoided noticing the small hitch in her stride as she walked briskly past his old station.

This time, she told herself – this time was going to be different. She was going to say something, consequences be damned. IT's not like there was going to be much time for regret – they were headed for the Mu relay, only a few days away. This time it was going to be different.

/- /- /- /-

The engine room was almost empty when Shepard walked in. Adams was long since asleep and his second stood at the main console, carefully recording the diagnostic results of the core. She nodded to the commander, then stepped to the other side of the room in a motion so fluid you'd be forgiven for thinking that it was part of her training. But Shepard had made it known that she didn't like being overheard while pep-talking the crew, so when she approached Tali'Zorah the engine room got a little smaller for everybody else.

"You know, Tali, I think I understand why you spend so much time down here. It's all a lot simpler in Engineering: equations, ratios. Predictable science, with predictable results." Shepard was leaning against the drive core railing, watching the EM field visibly shift around the Tantalus Core that was the heart of her ship. Tali joined her silently after a moment, resting forward into her elbows.

"Yes – you humans have built a beautiful ship. I've had a lot of fun exploring it all." Tali's voice rolled out of her suit speaker – the small distortions unable to hide the elegance of her cultured voice. "I've been meaning to thank you, Commander, for … well, everything. The opportunity to come with you, the Geth data, and …"

With a soft laugh, Shepard grinned up at her. "Tali, how many times have I asked you to drop the formality? You can call me 'Shepard', just like everybody else does. And it's been my pleasure to have you along – trust me."

"I do! That's … I mean, of course I trust you. You've been as good a captain to me as one of my own people, and that's saying a lot. You've seen how I'm treated elsewhere – it's been wonderful to be on this crew."

There was a long silence as each woman stared at the core. Tali shifted her legs to get more comfortable; Shepard watched her ankles cross out of the corner of her eye. Finally, Tali broke the silence.

"Com … Shepard, not that I'm complaining or anything, but you've spent more time down here this evening than you have in the past week combined. Do you … want to talk about Kaidan?"

Shepard's head fell, her hair hiding her eyes. Her voice was wooden as she answered. Butcher. Murderer. "Not really. Alenko was a soldier, and he knew what the risks were. Williams needed more time to arm the bomb, and …" her breath caught; butcher. Murderer. "He died a hero, Tali – he held the line with the Salarians and bought us the time we need." Her heart was pounding in her ears. "He got the job done. That's what matters."

Tali nodded, silent. "I think I understand, I really do. I could never have imagined making that kind of sacrifice before I left for my Pilgrimage, but being with you has been … an education."

A sharp laughter. "Well, I hope I don't turn you into same miserable cynic that Garrus and I are."

There was a kind of potent silence, barely filled by the humming of the core.

"Aaand … what about Williams?"

A blush filled Shepard's cheeks as she stood suddenly. "Oh, you heard that huh? I had hoped we'd kept it quieter." As she spoke, she felt her eyes following the line of Tali's hips again. She cleared her throat before continuing in a much sterner tone. "Chief Williams and I just had a … disagreement, is all. I misunderstood some of our conversation and she was good enough to set me straight. Nothing's changed."

Were Tali's legs always so long? When did that suit get to be so skintight? She blinked, then looked up at Tali – who was watching her through the visor. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"I said that I was sorry to hear about your … disagreement with Williams. She and I have never been very close, but I like her – she reminds me of the marines back on the Flotilla. I hope that your 'misunderstanding' …" Shepard could almost hear the air quotes the Quarian was omitting "… doesn't sour your friendship with her." Was Tali watching her a little differently?

"Thanks, Tali. I hope not." A moment of silence, then a quick smile. "Say, you know something? You've spent entirely too much time down here. How about you join me and the guys for our poker game next time?"

Tali stood up suddenly, looking around as though for trouble. "What, me? Play cards? No no no, Quarians are terrible gamblers. Besides, I don't have much money to bet, and …" she trailed off as she caught sight of Shepard's wide grin.

"Oh no, Tali, it's not a request. Consider that an order from your captain." Shepard reached out and took her hand firmly, shaking it up and down.

"Oh? Well, I guess if the _Captain _ says I have to come play silly human card games, who am I – a lowly engineer – to argue?" There was a smiling note in the voice, and her glowing eyes turned up. Shepard returned the smile.

"Good. You've got a hell of a poker face."

/- /- /- /-

Shepard made her way back to her cabin, nodding to the few crew awake as she passed. She made it into her room and got the door closed before slumping back and banging her head on the steel of the wall.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. How could she be so stupid? Of course Williams wasn't interested. Of course she wasn't. It's not like she'd ever shown even the slightest inclination; it wasn't as though she'd ever caught Williams watching her. The gall – the GALL – of that woman to 'let her down gently.' How dare she?

Shepard stormed through her cabin, pacing into the night. 40 hours to the relay, and suddenly it couldn't come fast enough.

/- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /-

Shepard was sitting in her cabin, head in her bandaged hands. The Normandy was unnaturally quiet, drive core shut down for maintenance and repairs. Her hands shook slightly against her forehead; the clock on the wall showed 8 May 2183.

The chime from the door seemed unnaturally loud, startling her out of her reverie. "Enter." She barked, and the doors opened. Tali was there with an impatient hand on her hips, but her eyes looking hesitant.

"Shepard, are you … ? I mean, Wrex sent me in here to find you, and … That is, Garrus and Wrex and were waiting at the table for your card game, and then I showed up and they seemed surprised … Anyway, Wrex said that if you invited me, I had to be the one to come get you so ..." she trailed off, her head cocked to one side as she looked at the commander.

With a small sigh, Shepard stood and forced a smile onto her face. "Yeah, sorry – I'm coming right out. Not as if we have anywhere else to go for a while." She slipped her arm around the Quarian's waist, hugging her gently. Tali stiffened against her for a moment, then relaxed. They walked out of Shepard's cabin like that, hips rubbing together for a few steps before they broke apart.

They reached the mess-table behind the elevator, laid out for the weekly card game. Wrex was sitting on the floor, and still rested his arms on the table. Garrus was straddling a chair, already looking contemplative. Pressly and Joker were shuffling cards and bantering. They all looked up when the two women approached.

"Hey." Wrex grunted. He looked them over, then gave Shepard another glance. "Thought you'd forgotten about the game. Just because a bunch of Geth nearly destroyed civilization is no reason to leave me sitting here."

"Hey, some of us had to _fly_ through those geth and keep our pants clean, so I don't want to hear about it." Jokers face had a boyish charm as he seamlessly joined the banter.

Garrus laughed "Fly through it, sure. It's not like you were at the helm of the most advanced warship in the Human or Turian fleet, or that you had an oversized drive core to boost your kinetic barriers or anything. No no, swooping in to save the day was _much_ harder than slogging it out on foot against every Geth outside the Veil." His humor was dry, a perfect match to Joker's.

Shepard was startled to hear Tali joining in. "It's not like either of you had to suffer the _mortification_ of being a member of the race that created them. Just when I thought the Galactic opinion of Quarians couldn't get any worse, it does." She was smiling as she said it. "Ha!" Wrex laughed "That's it, girl, you'll fit right in."

Shepard stood, watching them – her crew – settle in to their cards. Even Pressly – how strange to see his opinion change! It was he that voiced dissatisfaction at Shepard's decision to leave the Destiny Ascension; he'd had a change of heart these past months. But Shepard knew what she had to do – get the job done. At that moment, the only thing that mattered was destroying Sovereign, and she'd done it. She got the job done, just like she always did. With a quick smile she flipped a chair backward and sat down straddling it. "Okay, gentlemen – and lady – the game is called 'stud poker' and Joker so help me if you start making jokes …"


	3. The Renegade

Shepard watched every movement, gun twitching at every sound. She and the Cerberus agents – she couldn't think of them as her crew, no matter how much energy they'd spent trying to persuade her – were looking for someone, anyone, to tell them what had happened here. Freedom's Progress looked like a cold hell, and it made her joints ache. She never used to ache in the cold; must be the 'upgrades'. It was 11 February 2185, according to her omni-tool.

The door in front of them opened, to four surprised Quarians. Arguing, then a voice: "Wait … Shepard?"

/- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /-

Shepard sat on the small sofa in her cabin, feeling the deck plates hum underfoot. She was remembering – the cleanup efforts on the Citadel, and watching Tali practically dance with delight at all the deactivated Geth parts to send home; the weekly card games where Tali lost that innocent aura and started giving as good as she got with Wrex and Garrus. The "Crew Morale Weekend" on the Presidium, and the shocked expressions of the uptight politicians as she had her whole crew splashing on the shore of the recently refilled artificial lake. She remembered the water sliding off the black fabric of Tali's suit, and her slurred explanation of how the suit transmitted feeling to her skin. How much had she had? She and Garrus had played a drinking game he taught her – Tali took Shepard's hand as she explained how the suit worked, then kept holding it as the two women watched Wrex and Garrus get into a headbutting contest with each other, trees, keepers ...

It had been wonderful, and then it was over. She remembered saying goodbye to Tali, the evening before their deployment.

"I wish I could stay, Shepard."

"I wish you could stay too. I'm going out after Geth and I could really use your help."

"Oh?" a playful note. "Just my help with the Geth? You don't want a chance to win back your credits?"

Soft laughter. "No, you won 'em fair and square – Quarians are terrible gamblers, indeed! I ought to dock your pay for lying to me like that!"

A long pause. Softly, "I'd never lie to you, Shepard."

"I didn't mean it harshly. You've got nothing to worry about, Tali. It's been a real pleasure having you serve under me, and I'm going to miss you when you go back to the Flotilla."

Tali had looked up with an unreadable look; Shepard had never gotten the hang of reading her through the visor. "I could stay in touch, you know – some of the Quarians here on the Citadel have been saying that they're happy to meet me, or that they're so proud of me for fighting Saren with you. They say that I'll be given a hero's welcome when I get home. Maybe I could find a terminal somewhere, and tell you how I'm doing."

Was there a question in the words? Shepard felt her throat going a little dry, but nodded. "I'd really like that, Miss Tali'Zorah nar Rayya. Don't be a stranger."

They had stood next to each other on the Presidium grounds, leaning over the railing by the Conduit Relay as though it was the drive core back on the Normandy. If anyone noticed that their hips bumped occasionally, or that their shoulders were barely inches apart, they didn't mention it.

Shepard shook herself out of her musings. She needed to focus; they were just leaving Omega Station, and it was time to make the rounds. It was the start of the 2nd watch, 17 February 2185.

/- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /-

"So there I was, my sniper rifle so hot I couldn't even hold the grip; Wrex is down on the ground, charging headfirst into a squad of Geth with nothing but a shotgun and his thick damn skull. I'm thinking that this is it for him – I can't give any covering fire until the gun cools off, and he's not just going to stop his charge halfway across the field. Out of nowhere, Shepard appears, charging right up to them with the trigger held down. She got the first two, and Wrex steamrolled the last two, just tore their servo controllers right out of their chests. It was a magnificent sight."

Garrus was telling war stories to Grunt – who was soaking them up with his bright, eager eyes. Stories about Urdnot Wrex were his favorite, but any story that featured Shepard in a prominently violent role was also well liked. They were sitting around the mess table, trading old stories about the glory days; it almost felt like them. Joker was shuffling for the next round, while Garrus straddled his chair and Grunt sat on the floor doing his best to fill the role of Wrex. Jacob had joined them in place of Pressly, and Shepard sat straight-backed next to Zaeed. God, what a miserable cynic he'd turned out to be. She liked him right away.

She did miss hearing Tali's scathing contributions to their martial prowess, though; teasing Wrex about his battered old armor, or casually stealing drinks from Garrus. She missed the subtle touch of Tali's fingers on her shoulder when she stood, or the occasional touch of their feet. She found herself missing Pressly, and his dry acerbic wit.

Shepard forced herself to grin wide, and organized her chips again. "Hey, Garrus, don't sell yourself short. Remember that time you, and me, and Tali went down to explore that distress beacon? We were rolling along in the Mako, and …"

It was a good night after all, she thought as she let her mouth ramble on. The Cerberus people weren't all bad, and with Garrus and Grunt, Joker and Jacob she felt like she might actually be among friends. It was the middle of the 2nd watch, 3 March 2185.

/- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /-

"Actually, I won't be going with you – I'm joining Commander Shepard"

Shepard turned to look at Tali out of the corner of her eye, trying to restrain a conspiratorial smile. She found Tali looking back, but only for a moment.

"She's all yours now, Shepard – keep her safe." She shook Reegar's gloved hand, each testing the strength of the other. She nodded first; he nodded back. "I will, believe me – I care for Tali very much, and I need her now even more than ever."

Tali said nothing, only smiling behind her visor.

/- /- /- /-

The shuttle ride back to the Normandy was quiet. Tali and Shepard sat side by side, while Garrus and Jacob got them home. Jacob had wanted to start the debriefing, but Tali's glare was discernible even through the visor of her helmet. Garrus had been the one to loudly suggest that he wasn't yet fully qualified on Human light craft, and would need Jacob's help to get them back to the Normandy. His glance at Shepard was significant.

"Thanks for coming with me, Tali. I – I can't tell you how much it means to me to have you aboard."

The Quarian looked over at Shepard with her head cocked slightly. "After all the good times we had together, how could I refuse?"

"Well, I'd be lying to you if I said this was going to be a pleasure cruise like the old days."

"Ha! Pleasure cruise, she says! Keelah, we were never so busy as we were on the Normandy … you know, before the Citadel."

There was a pause. "Shepard, I'm glad Cerberus brought you back. I – I missed you. The Galaxy needs you, you know!"

"I know, but at least this time it's not the Geth. We're hunting down the Collectors, the ones who took the colony at Freedom's Progress. And Horizon, and a dozen other damn places." There was fire in Shepard's voice now, a harshness to the set of her shoulders. "When we find them, we're going to charge straight down their gullet and stop them."

Tali nodded, as though she knew exactly what was at stake. "Whatever you need me to do, Shepard, I'm here for you. If you've been flying around in a Cerberus vessel, I'll bet that you could use an engineer who actually knows how to balance a drive core. I'll do what I can for you … for the mission."

Shepard didn't say anything. She just leaned back into the acceleration couch and quietly took Tali's hand. They squeezed each other's tight and watched the sky bleed away through the front viewports. It was 12 March 2185.

/- /- /- /-

Miranda was waiting for her outside the comm room. "Shepard, do you have a minute?"

She sighed, then turned to her 'First Officer'. "Yes, Miranda?"

"I couldn't help but overhear your comment to Miss Tali'Zorah – about needing people who aren't Cerberus. I had hoped you would have come to trust us a bit more by now."

Shepard rubbed a hand across her face. She'd scrubbed up when she came through the cargo bay, but she knew she'd still feel grimy until she'd gotten a chance to thoroughly shower. Dealing with Miranda was very low on the list of things she wanted to be doing right now.

"Miranda, please listen. I knew about Cerberus before I died, and nothing I heard or saw made me like the organization. Nothing I have seen about the way that Cerberus operates has done anything to ease my fears. I distrust the Illusive man, I distrust Cerberus, and to be perfectly frank I distrust you. Please, don't force it. You'll either earn my trust, or you won't – pestering me about it isn't going to win you any points."

Without registering any emotion, Miranda pivoted the conversation. "Alright, I accept that – you're slow to trust new people. But what good will a Quarian engineer do against an organic enemy? The Collectors aren't like the Geth, Shepard."

"Do I have to have a reason to keep my friends close?" Shepard smiled as she turned away.

/- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /-

Samara stood some distance away, watching the mess-hall table with those bright blue eyes. "I don't understand this game, Commander Shepard. Shouldn't you all be preparing for battle? EDI tells me that a disabled Collector vessel has been discovered and that we are to investigate."

"You're just like the last Asari we had on board – all kinds of 'what? I don't understand' and 'oh my, I … I must lie down!'" Joker put his hand to his head with an exaggerated drama, his voice a pitch-perfect imitation of Liara. His other hand held cards, until he threw them onto the table. "No point, I can see the Commander smiling. Fold."

Shepard looked over at the Justicar over the top of her cards. They were playing Skillian Five tonight, and she was finally feeling her luck. "It's not always about being in peak physical condition, Samara. This game helps us relax, blow off steam. Who wants to fight Collectors all stressed out? Call." She laid down her hand with a smile. 44 points out of 55 maximum? Not too bad.

"Speak for yourself, Commander, I _am_ in peak physical condition. Fold." With a sigh, Jacob tossed his cards away and smiled. "But you know I'd never miss card night."

"Ah, blow it out your ass, Jake. I'm stronger than you, _and_ my biotics are better than yours. Let's hope your performance tomorrow isn't as shitty as it's been all night. Boom!" with a flourish, Jack slapped her cards down on the table. 48 points.

"Oh goddamnit you psycho bitch, you stole my fucking ace. Fold." Zaeed puffed on his cigar and cursed casually at Jack. The first time the two of them had met down in the cargo area, they'd come to blows. Now they sat next to each other at the card table every week. Honestly, Zaeed was the only one who could swear better than she could. Shepard laughed happily to watch the ace in question lift up and spin around before Kasumi deactivated her active camouflage.

"Oh no? As usual, you should both leave the stealing to the master." She grinned, an impish little smile, then dropped the card and vanished just as suddenly as she'd come. It was a habit of hers that had started off extremely annoying – Shepard had nearly shot her the first time she'd done it – but it had become a welcome, almost expected, part of life on the Normandy. If Kasumi surprised you somewhere, it meant you were one of her friends, part of the crew.

Grunt, well … grunted. "This game is stupid, Shepard. When we're playing poker I can at least look at the pictures of the tiny humans while I loose, instead of all these … numbers. Fold." He hurled his cards into the pile of chips on the table. "Huh. Bet I could turn these into weapons and have a lot more fun with them."

Garrus gave a deep, Turian sigh. "Well, Grunt, not every fight we get into with Shepard is going to be a glorious victory. Sometimes, we just have to watch her lose – again – to Jack. Fold." He looked over at Tali, the only one still holding cards.

Tali shrugged a shoulder wordlessly and laid her cards out. 47 points. With a whoop, Jack leapt out of her seat and started collecting the chips. "Aww yeah, more for me!" she cried, stuffing the chips into the sleeves of her rolled down jumpsuit.

It was Samara who frowned, the creases only framing her beautiful features. "Tali'Zorah, I don't understand – if you knew you had poor cards, why did you stay in after Jack showed her hand?"

Under the table, Tali's thigh rubbed slowly against Shepard's, their ankles crossed. "Oh, I just like playing the game, that's all." Shepard burst out laughing, and looked around at her crew with a smile. It really was just like old times. She flexed her thigh against Tali's and felt the Quarian push back. It was 15 March 2185.

/- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /-

Shepard strode through Miranda's office door. "Miranda, Ms. Chambers said you wanted to see me?"

Miranda was a wreck. Shepard had never seen her looking so haggard, and when she started explaining about her sister, Shepard knew her face matched Miranda's. Her ears heard the story of Orianna and their father, but her mind was locked on her own past. Mindoir. Her parents, her sisters. How long it took her to get over the loss of her family.

Shepard stood suddenly, cutting Miranda off mid-word. "Listen, Miranda, we're going to do this. No one should have to lose their family. EDI, tell joker to divert to Illium, right now."

Miranda looked up, surprised. "Really, Commander? After all he headbutting we've done? You're going to just drop the mission and divert to Illium, because I asked you to?"

Shepard took a breath. "Yes. We're not friends, Miranda, but I know what it's like to lose family – and nobody should have to suffer that." She turned and left a bewildered Miranda in the chair by her viewport. She'd spent two years putting that blasted woman back together, literally from parts, and she still had no idea how or why she did what she did.

/- /- /- /-

Shepard and Miranda stood, guns drawn, on a windblown rooftop on Illium. The bodies of dozens and dozens of mercenaries littered the building beneath them. Shepard had been a merciless killer, mechanically identifying and reacting to threats before Miranda had even finished noticing them. Shepard was always good, but this was something else – a kind of calculated efficiency. A grenade thrown into the opening doors of an elevator, and nevermind who might be in there, or what extra damage the blast might do to the building. Now they stood shoulder to shoulder, covering the mercenaries visible on the roof.

"Not many civilians around, Miranda – we could end this right now."

"NO! Not until I get some answers …"

"Look, if Niket knows about Oriana, then your father does too. Relocating her isn't going to work."

Shepard could feel Miranda's realization, the sudden tension in her.

"Miranda's father had no information about Orianna … I kept it all to myself." Niket was wringing his hands, his eyes pleading with Miranda. "I knew you had spy programs on your fathers systems, so I kept it all private. I'm the only one who knows."

Miranda slowly exhaled. "Which means you're the only loose end left. This isn't how I wanted it to end, Niket – I'm going to miss you." Shepard watched her finger tighten on the trigger for a moment, then she committed. The bullet passed right through Niket's pleading eye before exploding out the back of his head, spattering his blood and brains on the Eclipse mercenary behind him. Shepard started to smile as she pulled the trigger – no more talking.

/- /- /- /-

They were on the shuttle back to the Normandy when Miranda spoke. Her voice was unusually quiet. "I can't believe Niket sold me out. I didn't even see it coming."

Shepard looked over, grunting. "Hey, everybody makes mistakes. This probably isn't going to be one you make again. The key is to be hard, Miranda – harder than you think anyone could possibly be. This is a rough galaxy – you have to be even rougher."

Miranda nodded, her moment of weakness rapidly passing. "You're right. Thank you, Shepard, for your help. It's been … enlightening to work with you."

Shepard's eyes closed and she felt the tumble of the shuttle pass away. They had cleared atmosphere and were going back home. It was 17 March 2185.

/- /- /- /-

Shepard's entrance to Engineering didn't go entirely unnoticed. Tali approached and held out her hands, an increasingly common practice for the two of them if Shepard had been planetside without her.

"Hey Shepard – how did everything go?"

She squeezed Tali's hands, then dropped them and leaned back on the bulkhead. "Fine. Miranda and her sister got re-acquainted, and we killed the man who was selling her out."

Tali nodded slowly. She hated killing, hated the waste of life. But death seemed to follow Shepard everywhere, and she was getting used to it. Slowly, the Commander's mantra was seeping into her as it had Garrus – a dead enemy causes no more trouble. She'd been shocked when Garrus had brought it up over cards one night, how casually he thanked Shepard for keeping his old partner distracted long enough for Garrus to put a bullet into each tiny eye. Shepard had grinned – GRINNED! – and groused that she never got to be the one pulling the trigger. Nothing more had been said, then or ever since, but Garrus and Shepard had been even closer. Funny how death kept reinforcing their friendship; first the Salarian, Dr. Saleon – then Sidonis the turncoat.

Tali wondered which of them was faster on the draw.

"I'm … glad. Now, maybe Miranda will thaw out and get a little easier to deal with. What did Jack call her the other day, 'Cheerleader'? I looked it up but the extranet results were … ah … they didn't seem to match what Jack meant at all." Tali looked up into Shepard's grinning face. She found herself blushing hotly under the visor.

"Did you look at any of the results you found?" Shepard teased.

"N-no! No, never! I mean, just to make sure that it wasn't … but I didn't … oh, Ancestors you must think …"

Grinning, Shepard pushed off the bulkhead and brushed her hand over Tali's shoulder, down her arm. "Relax. You should try one of them, you might learn something new about us Humans." She turned and started to stalk off, casually walking a ramrod straight line; each footstep exactly in front of the last, making her hips roll with each oh-so-casual step. _Like a Jungle Cat_, Tali thought, _like she owns this whole place. _She swallowed, and absently recalled one of the extranet sites that had shown up in her search.

/- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /-

It was already a couple of hours into the 3rd watch when Shepard came down from her cabin to do the rounds. She'd spent most of the past day in bed, her back a mess of bright red welts and cybernetic burns. Dr. Chakwas had teased her about trying to win awards for the most Medi-Gel used by a single person. Shepard laughed and agreed, and didn't mention who the rocket might have aimed for originally.

She was up and moving now – the collector vessel had been a trap, of course, but at least EDI had learned what they needed to do. They were en route to the husk of a dead reaper to collect the IFF transponder, and then they'd be going through the Omega Relay.

Her rounds were different these days – a lot more organic, far less structured. It was as if she was unconsciously rebelling against the cybernetics that had rebuilt her. She still followed the same pattern, though – start in the cockpit and tease Joker about EDI. Move aft (studiously ignoring the shrink the Illusive Man had stuck her with) and swing into the research lab to speak with Mordin. She'd spend some time with him, always learning something new about him, usually learning something new about her ship, or her chances against the Collectors. She swung into his lab with a practiced ease.

"Hey there Mordin – got a minute?"

"Actually, wanted to talk: medical matters. Aware that mission is dangerous … different species react differently to stress. Past relationship with Tali'Zorah makes dalliance attractive as stress release – still, recommend caution. Quarian immune system weak – could kill her."

Shepard stood stock still, stunned at what she'd heard. "Uh, Mordin, I think you might have something wrong. Tali and I are just friends."

"Shepard, no need for shyness. Tali'Zorah came in for complete antibiotic and antiseptic system overhaul in suit two days ago. Can deduce why, just waiting for you to come see me about precautions."

Shepard blinked, her mouth answering for her "Mordin, whatever Tali and I are to each other we don't … wait, she came in for upgrades to her suit?"

"Yes. Tali'Zorah acquired broad-spectrum multispecies antiseptic, recommend you self-sterilize as well. Oral contact with tissue dangerous – take precautions." He paused to glare significantly "Also forwarding advice booklet to your quarters – valuable diagrams, positions comfortable for both species, erogenous zone overviews. Can supply oils or ointments to reduce discomfort. Gave EDI 'electronic relationship aid' demonstration vids to use as necessary."

Shepard choked back a shocked laugh "You gave the AI … sex toy videos?"

"Of course! Most species too wrapped up in taboo aspects of reproduction, knew you'd never ask for advice in the middle of … ah … relations. Can ask EDI, though, without shame."

Shepard was silent a moment more, then "… What kinds of oils, Mordin?"

"Hoped you'd ask! Reformulated Medi-Gel dispensers to neutralize chirality of body secretions – sweat and such – to make contact between cross-species partners less hazardous. Will probably win patent for this, have submitted it to Galactic Medical Journal for publishing. Quite pleased. Still in beta, though – currently, releases lightly fragrant gas, probably flammable." He fixed her with a stern glare. "No Candles."

"Wait a minute, Mordin, you're just jerking me around, aren't you!?"

"Shocking suggestion! Doctor – patient confidentiality a sacred trust! Would never dream … of mockery. Enjoy yourself while possible, Shepard."

/- /- /- /-

Shepard walked down into the elevator with a half-bemused expression still on her face. Jacob had tactfully neglected to comment on the bright-green medi-gel dispensers she carried under arm (each branded with a smiling picture of Mordin), but she could _feel_ his gaze lingering. She left before he overcame his shyness enough to ask what – _exactly_ – was in the vials. Garrus had paused in the middle of discussing Turian military protocol, and launched into a raunchy tale of the time he and a crewmate had tussled for stress relief. When she stood, he cleared his throat.

"Shepard, it's getting pretty obvious what's happening here. You're my friend, and I don't want you to get hurt. Take some advice?"

She stopped, a blush filling her cheeks and neck. "Garrus …"

"No, don't worry – I'm not going to get all paternal on you. You've been my friend too long for any of that bullshit. I just wanted to say that you and Tali are both … very special people to me. You deserve all the happiness you can give each other, and you have the support of your crew – your _real_ crew."

Shepard took a slow breath. "Thanks, Garrus. I'll remember that."

/- /- /- /-

Engineering was dark when she entered. Ken and Gabby had shuffled out with the rest of the second watch and were catching some well-earned rack time. The only console still illuminated belonged to Tali, who was as usual bent over her work.

"Hey there, Tali – shouldn't you be racked out with the rest of the crew?"

She started, spinning around quickly. "Shepard! Hey, I was just … I mean, yes! Yes, I should be in bed!" she started to walk away from the console, but Shepard caught her elbow in a firm grip.

"Oh no you don't – what's going on?"

Tali slumped against the bulkhead with a long sigh. "It's … the Flotilla. I'm being recalled to stand trial for treason."

"What? That's horseshit, Tali, you're not guilty of anything." Shepard flopped against the bulkhead next to her. "What could they possibly accuse you of?"

"That's just it, Shepard, I don't know. They didn't say, they just said I had to come back or they'd try me in abstention." Tali's arms crossed under her chest, pulling tight against her. Shepard swallowed, eyes drawn to the gentle swells under her environment suit.

"Tali, don't worry. I'll divert us to the Migrant Fleet immediately, and we can figure this out together." She took one of the Quarians long-fingered hands in hers, squeezing hard. "You'll be fine. No matter what the fleet might have to say, they can't take you away from me … from, from the Normandy." Shepard tried to control her breathing. _Did I really say that out loud?_

Tali looked over at her, relaxing for the first time since she'd come in tonight. "Thank you, Shepard – I … that … it means a lot to me." Tali finished lamely. She didn't let go of Shepard's hand.

After a while, Tali took a deep breath. "So, eh … what brings you down here at this time of night, anyway?"

Shepard looked startled for a moment, then laughed. "Oh – oh! I'd almost forgotten. I need to place a work order with Ken." She strode over to his terminal and picked up a pad, quickly keying her order. She tossed the pad carelessly onto the console, and turned to EDI's holopad.

"EDI, acknowledge."

"I am here, Commander Shepard."

"Log Entry: Commanding officer diverted course to Migrant Fleet, coordinates …"

Shepard gave EDI the course correction and authorization to adjust, without giving any indication that she knew Tali was edging over to her work order. She left without another word.

/- /- /- /-

Engineer Donnelly

PRIORITY WORK ORDER

Cmdr. Shepard, CO NORMANDY S/R-2

IMMEDIATE ACTION: TAKE WHATEVER MEASURES ARE NECESSARY TO REFIT CAPTAINS CABIN / DECK 1 VENTILATION SYSTEM. ISOLATE FROM SHIP AIR VIA MOLECULAR O2 SCRUBBER AND MONATOMIC CONTAMINANT FILTER. ISOLATE CAPTAINS HEAD FROM SHIP WATER SYSTEM. INTRODUCE MONOMOLECULAR WATER FILTER AND RECLIMATOR.

Classification: CAPTAINS EYES ONLY – FLASH

Ken grinned, then quickly smothered it. The work order had been waiting for him on his console when he arrived. Nudging Gabby, he tipped the screen toward her and watched her eyes go wide. It was the morning of 29 March 2185.

/- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /-

The Admiralty Board waited for her answer. Behind her, Shepard could barely make out Tali whispering "Shepard … please …" Her heart ached. Oh, hell, she knew what she was going to say the moment she came on board.

"Tali's achievements are the only evidence you should need. Come on, Tali, we're leaving." She turned and started to walk – slowly – away, grinning behind her helmet at the sound of Quarian distress. She grabbed Tali's arm and spun her around.

"What?!" "You can't leave, this is a formal proceeding!"

Shepard turned and spat the words through her helmet "Wrong, admiral! You're trying to build sympathy for the Geth to forestall the war effort and you …" her accusing finger tracked across the board "… want all the messy experiments cleaned up so you can throw your fleet at the Geth!" The admirals sputtered in denial and outrage, but she wasn't finished. "You do whatever you want with your toy ships, but leave _my crew_ out of your political bullshit."

She was furious, she realized. Actually angry at these puffed up 'Admirals' for what they were putting Tali through. "We have no new evidence. You can accept Tali's word, or you can exile the woman who saved the Citadel from the Geth." She could feel her blood pounding – the same pumping adrenaline she'd felt at her own trial, a lifetime ago. Her mind filled with bitter laughter, the memory of whispers. Butcher. Insubordinate. Butcher. MURDERER.

The Admirals voted to clear her, of course. The closing formalities didn't sink in – she was watching Tali, glancing away every time she got caught looking. They were on their way back to the ship before Tali finally spoke.

"I can't believe you pulled that off. What you said …" Tali took a deep, ragged breath. "Well. It's been a while since anyone shouted down the Admiralty Board. I think it was good for them." She stepped closer to Shepard and took her hand. "Thank you for being there for my father and me, even when …" Tali shook her head and squeezed Shepard's hand. "Thank you."

Shepard grinned. "We can always go back in there and get you exiled if you want." She didn't let go of Tali's hand.

"Ha! No, thanks – I'm fine with things like this." Tali turned toward Shepard and cocked her head. "It's fun watching you shout."

Shepard smiled, then released Tali's hand. "Tali, about what your father said, what he did –" her smile faded. "You deserved better."

Tali laughed and put her hand on her hip. "I got better, Shepard – I got you." She stepped forward and laced her arm through Shepard's. The two women smiled at each other, a walking conspiracy. "Come on, Miss Tali'Zorah vas Normandy – let's get back to our ship." Shepard took off at a decent pace, challenging Tali to keep up. She did, her head hanging a little as she breathed "Thank you … captain."

Her heart was pounding in her chest as they approached the airlock. It was over. She was going back to her ship – HER ship! – with her Commander, her Captain. Tali'Zorah vas Normandy – it had a very good ring to it.

As they cleared the airlock and felt the pressurizing blast of the Normandy's decontamination protocol, Tali smiled behind her visor. Tali'Zorah vas Normandy was home, and she would never leave. It was the end of a very long day, 31 March 2185.

/- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /-

Shepard was sitting on the floor of the observation lounge with Samara, the two women mirroring each other's position. Their knees pressed to the cold deck, their spines ramrod straight and heads high. They spoke in low tones.

"Commander, I don't understand your decisions sometimes. You have consistently flouted your own organization's rules and Code, but you don't seem to be out for personal gain. I've watched you leave civilians to die horrible deaths in the pursuit of your objective, yet you've gone out of your way to help your crew – even when their needs have derailed the mission. Am I wrong in thinking that you don't know your own mind?"

Shepard took a slow breath. The question wasn't impertinent – the two had met almost every day for meditation and philosophical debate. It was clear that oath or no oath, Samara disliked some of the decisions Shepard had made during the course of their mission. Shepard found the open candor of the Justicar refreshing.

"It's nothing like that. I don't trust Cerberus the organization, but some of the people are alright – they've proven their loyalty to me and my mission, and in turn they have my trust. It's like Jack – she's a dangerous criminal and an unstable personality at best. And yet, she's been better after we destroyed Pragia Facility. By diverting to that old dump, I helped clear her mind – I showed her that she's a killer, a weapon, not a scared little girl anymore. Now instead of fighting me, or her own nature, she'll fight the Collectors. Or like Miranda's sister – instead of a dagger in the dark, I know that I have an ally against the Collectors, _and_ the Illusive Man."

Samara nodded, then changed position. They moved together, rolling onto their stomachs and pushing up with their arms. Her voice betrayed no strain at all. "Of course, Commander, and Jack's performance has certainly been better – but do you not worry about the long-term repercussions of your advice?"

Shepard's voice trembled a bit as she held her pose. "Honestly, Samara, we'll all be lucky if we have a future at all. And if we do, then Jack will no doubt find herself in the position of needing to carve out her own place in this galaxy, and she'll do it with strength instead of with kindness. The galaxy isn't friendly to humans, as you know; if a woman like Jack goes out expecting sweetness and sunshine, she's going to get rolled right out the nearest airlock."

They shifted again as Samara thought on Shepard's words. "You certainly display that strength, Commander. I heard your discussion with Legion and Tali'Zorah from here."

Shepard growled "What the hell was I supposed to do? I keep Legion around because he's damn perfect for what I need to do – he's immune to the seeker swarms, he's fast and accurate, and he's one more thing that the Illusive Man wants that I'm not going to give him. But I need Tali to run this ship at peak efficiency. I can't have either one of them doing anything to jeopardize this mission."

"Legion is an 'it', Commander, not a 'he'."

"I don't give a good goddamn what _it_ is, as long as _it_ does its damn job. The same standard I hold the rest of you to. It's why I didn't mind you using me as bait for Morinth; because I knew that after she was dealt with, I could count on your full attention."

Samara smiled slightly. "Indeed – and I am again appreciative for your help, Commander." She paused as she effortlessly levered herself into a handstand; Shepard followed slowly, shifting her weight onto her hands, then further, lifting off her leg and tightening up her back until she was upright. Samara waited until Shepard's breathing had calmed before continuing. "But while I may understand the necessities of your decisions, it may be that Tali'Zorah does not. You should go to her – speak to her and make sure she understands that you must sometimes speak for the mission, and not just for yourself."

Shepard was silent the rest of their exercises.

/- /- /- /-

Shepard stopped outside the door to Engineering, resting her hand on the bulkhead. Her heart was beating, fast and thready, and she could feel the sweat on her palms. What made this trip different from any other? Why should she be feeling anything other than her usual calm? She took a deep breath, then another. Steady, she strode through the automatic doors.

She'd offered Tali her choice of living space to call her own, but that stubborn Quarian wouldn't leave Engineering. She'd rigged up a hammock of sorts and suspended it from the railings that led to the drive core. Any closer and she'd be bathing in the eezo radiation; further away, she claimed, and she'd never get a decent night's sleep. When Shepard entered, Tali was wrapped in her hammock, laying still as though asleep – except for the glow of her omni tool, and the lightning quick twitching of her long fingers. Shepard watched the hands move, then quietly coughed to announce herself.

"What? … who? Shepard?" Tali startled at the sound, and had reacted by trying to spin around in place. She ended up half-twisted in her hammock, swinging gently at waist height. Shepard grinned, then stepped closer.

"Don't panic! It's just me. I – I came to talk."

"What's so important that it couldn't wait till morning?"

"Legion."

Silence from Tali.

"Tali? I need to know that you're okay with what happened – that you understand why I did what I did."

"Oh, sure. I understand. For the good of the mission. Was there anything else?"

Shepard scrubbed a hand through her hair, sighing roughly. "Tali, please – listen to me. I know I was rough with you – with you both. I needed to shut that argument down quickly, before it could get out of hand or spread to the rest of the ship. We're all on edge, and flaring tempers can destroy morale."

"Yes, I understand. Thank you for explaining that to me, because as a life-long resident of the Migrant Fleet I would never understand the importance of maintaining high crew morale, or containing problems before they start." Shepard winced at the cold tone of Tali's voice, but rallied. "So if you understand, why do I feel like you're angry with me?"

"Because you didn't side with _me!_ I'm your friend, Shepard! I've been with you since Saren's first treachery, and you didn't back me up!"

Hurt. Tali was hurting, and it came through her voice just fine. Shepard leaned against the bulkhead

"Tali I – I'm sorry. I didn't mean to dismiss your friendship, or your feelings. I –"

"You what, Shepard? You put your boot down on us both like we were common crew caught misbehaving. After everything we've had together, and I got yelled at like a liveship deckhand."

"No! Yes, I yelled – and yes, I'm sorry for how that came out. I didn't mean to belittle our relationship or our history. I just needed to make it clear to both of you that neither outcome was acceptable."

Tali bit off the scathing comment she was going to throw out, musing over Shepard's words. Before she could speak, Shepard continued.

"Creating the Geth in the first place may have been a mistake, but they are not the enemy – the Reapers are. If you and Legion can work together, that gives me hope that someday all Quarians and all Geth can work together, and put this whole war behind you. I don't want to see either side destroyed. Besides, I – I have grown quite fond of … yelling at the admirals. I'd like the chance to do it again."

Tali's stomach was knotting, but she found herself answering. "When you put it that way, I can understand a bit more. I'm sorry for taking it out on you."

Shepard smiled in relief, casually seeking out one of Tali's lithe ankles and brushing her knuckles over the fabric of the suit. "No, I'm sorry – I should have come to you sooner, told you what was going on."

"Promise that you'll come to me right away next time, and you're forgiven."

Butterflies in her stomach. "Of course I promise."

"Good." She flexed her foot up into Shepard's touch, then made 'go away' motions. "Now please, let me sleep – we're supposed to be doing the final field alignment checks on the Reaper IFF tomorrow."

"Right. Good luck." Shepard turned to leave, but her hand stayed behind – her softly touching fingertips tracing down Tali's foot left her skin flushed and sensitive before pulling away.

/- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /-

They sat around the table, but they were not playing cards. They weren't talking. It was 18 April 2185, and the ship was empty.

Shepard was leaning back in her chair, hands laced behind her head, staring off toward the Main Battery Room. Her crew sat around her, watching and waiting; EDI's glowing holoprojection was nearby, and Shepard thought she could feel the AI watching, too.

At length, she dropped forward – her chair clattered on the deck as she spoke. "Okay, this is it. We have the Reaper IFF installed, and the Collectors found us. They have our crew."

The members of her team looked up at her in anticipation. Garrus could already feel himself smiling.

"We're going to go through the Omega Relay. We're going to track the Collectors down to their home base, and then we're going to smear that base into monatomic vapor. We're going to hit them hard and fast, right where it hurts."

She looked around at her crew – Zaeed and Garrus grinning wide; Samara, with her cool detachment. Jack and Miranda – still as far apart as they could be – with murder in their eyes. Jacob and Thane, relaxed; Kasumi with a worried look on her unusually still face. Tali and Legion stoically silent, each the mirror of the other. Grunt and Mordin standing off to one side, watching everyone else. They were ready. They had to be, because they no longer had a choice.

"It's been a long – LONG – three months. We've been through a lot – together, separately. I admit that when we started, I didn't feel as close to you all as I do now but believe me when I say this: you are all, each of you, the best crew I've ever had. I know that we can do this, we can face whatever is on the other side."

Her crew watched her speak. Some eyes were bright, eager – Grunt looked like he was going to break into laugher any moment, but it was Garrus who finally broke the silence. "Shepard, don't worry. We're going to smear those collectors against the wall."

"Damn right!" "Warp the shit right out their asses!" "Smash their skulls into powder!"

The reaction was welcome, and there were no more speeches. She took each aside in turn, a final word of friendship, of camaraderie. Rhetoric aside, they were going to hit the Relay in 5 hours and there was absolutely no guarantee that any of them would be coming back – this was the time for last thoughts, reflections, and personal stories. In their own order, each came to say goodbye just in case; Shepard clasped their hands and affirmed their friendship, said goodbye. She remembered of all the other people she'd lost – Mica and Nichols and Henkley and Vala. Her parents and siblings. Alenko, torn apart by Geth. The bile rose in her throat.

At long last, it was only Mordin and Tali left. Mordin's words were direct and to the point, entirely like himself – until he took her hand and looked pointedly over at Tali. "Enjoy yourself while you can, Shepard."

She blushed hotly – it was as though Mordin could read all the images dancing behind her eyes, images filled with a flashing purple and silver hood. She was still lost in musing when she felt Tali's presence behind her. Turning, she found the Quarian leaning against the elevator housing, mimicking the commander's usual posture. "So, any last-minute advice for a lost young Quarian about to head into certain death?" her tone was light, playful; it clenched Shepard's heart and knotted her stomach. She found herself closing the distance, grabbing Tali's arm.

"Don't go."

"What?! How can you even say that?"

"Tali please, I … I don't want you to come with me."

"Ancestors, Shepard, why not? I've come with you this far, I'm going the rest of the way with you!"

"Tali, No!"

There was silence – the two women, hands on hips and standing inches from each other, glaring across the miles of separation left in the wake of the commander's shout.

"What's the matter, Commander? Worried I'll slow you down? Afraid that Wrex's teachings will fail me at the worst moment?"

"No! No, it's not … I …" Tali's heart leapt into her throat as she watched Shepard visibly struggle.

"Then what, Shepard? Why don't you want me coming with you?"

"Because I … I can't lose you, Tali." The confession was a whisper, but it echoed in the speakers of her suit. She reached out and took Shepard's hands in hers, rubbing her long thumb over her friend's knuckles.

"You're not going to lose me – I'm going to be right next to you, the whole time."

"This is different, dangerous. People are going to die, just like Virmire." Shepard looked up, a frost in her eyes. "I … care for you, very much. I don't want to have to make the choice between you and the mission. That's why I want you to stay here."

Tali startled backward, dropping Shepard's hand. "You … you're afraid that you might have to order me to my death? …" she watched Shepard flinch, continuing relentlessly. "… or that you'd have to leave me to die somewhere? Keelah, Shepard, you're cold! Why would you say such things?"

Shepard blazed to life, gritting her teeth and gesturing emphatically "Because it's what I do, Goddamnit. I get the job done." Something dark flashed across her eyes, but she continued. "I get the job done, regardless of who has to be hurt in the process - even me. So if I have to, I'll leave every one of these people – my friends and crew – to die if it means I stop the Reapers. This is just the first skirmish in that fight, and I aim to win."

Tali leaned back, crossing her arms across her chest, her breathing heavy. "So you'll throw our lives away; that's good to know. What makes me special, then, Shepard? Why don't you want me coming with you and the rest of your _friends_." She spat the word, earning another flinch.

Shepard shook slightly, trying to control her breathing. Her guts were knotted, tight; her hands were cramping with the urge to grip something _HARD_. "You're … special to me, Tali and I – I can't – I don't want to have to leave you. I want you …" her breath hitched and Tali's eyes widened in shock and understanding. Shepard took a breath and tried to continue. "I want you here, safe, in case everything goes to shit."

Tali uncrossed her arms, taking a step forward. Her words shuddered out of her, but she managed to summon the courage to speak. "That's … what was it Pressly used to say … ah, Bullshit. Bullshit, Shepard." She took another step, now so very close to her captain and took her hands tightly. "Tell me. Tell me what you've been trying to tell me for weeks, months now. Tell me!"

Shepard's eyes widened and she tried to step back, to get distance but Tali tightened her grip on Shepard's hands, almost painfully. She shook her head, trying to deny Tali, deny herself, as weeks and weeks of memories came crashing onto her at once. Visiting in Engineering. The touches, the caresses, oh god she'd been seducing Tali since the Citadel, why did that stubborn Quarian have to realize it _now_? Virmire, and the choice she'd made; was it for a pair of hips, or a bomb? Torfan, and the brave look on Vala's face before she went to her death.

All the tension went out of her as she slumped into Tali's hands. She dropped her head and her lips moved, once.

"Say it!" Tali was practically yelling, her voice quavering through the speaker of her suit.

Shepard came to life, pushing forward into Tali and carrying her back to the elevator wall. Her eyes blazed and her veins pulsed in her neck – but her hands, so carefully, enfolding Tali's narrow waist, her fingers already idly brushing her hips. Her mouth was open, but Tali spoke. Softly, gently; using her hips to press into Shepard's hands. "Please, Shepard … say it. Tell me …"

"I – " she took a breath. "I love you."

It was a moment of total immobility. Neither woman moved, the echoes of that tiny whisper still reverberating around them. At length, Tali did move – lifting up on her toe, she pressed her hip into Shepard's hand, feeling it tighten almost painfully; she didn't stop, only lifting her head to look Shepard in the eye – seeing the shock there, watching it bleed away into a slow smile. The thumb on her hip flexed again and she bit her lip, and pressed harder into the touch.

"I love you, Tali'Zorah vas Normandy." Shepard stepped close, her body pressing against the barrier of the suit. "I don't want you to come with me, because I want to know that you're alive and okay."

Tali stopped moving, a frustrated sound coming from her. She pushed Shepard away and grasped her by the shoulders. "Look, there's no guarantee that we even survive the relay. There's no knowing what we'll find on the other side if we do – for all we know, it could be a whole fleet of Reapers. And assuming that we survive all that, you and I both know that the Reapers are coming – we may have a week, or a year, but they'll come." She moved her hands, cupping Shepard's face; she desperately wanted to touch those red lips, now parted by breath.

"I don't know what's going to happen, but I do know that you're not leaving me behind. Because you love me, and I … I love you, too."

There was silence, broken only by the whisper of suit-fabric and skin. Shepard closed her eyes – she knew she'd already lost the fight, lost her will, lost everything but the urgent need to know what Quarian skin actually felt like and the taste of a young Quarian's lips.

A trembling voice pulled her back to the moment. ".. Shepard?"

"Yeah, Tali – you're coming with me. Now, and for the foreseeable future. You're coming with me to Omega; you're coming with me when we've kicked the Collectors into the nearest black hole; you're coming with me when I tell the Illusive man to shove it, and right now you're coming with me into the elevator."

Tali's pulse leapt, and a soft moan slipped out of her. "Yes … captain."

/- /- /- /-

The air in her cabin smelled – crisp. Not like clean linens, or the dry sterility of a hospital room, just clean. She noticed that it was warm in the cabin; too hot to stay clothed for long. She pushed Tali against the pillar at the base of the steps and held her there with a hand on her tight belly. She could feel the Quarian squirming under her, and hear the short little breaths she was taking. She couldn't wait any more, and started to reach for the closest suit seal.

Tali's hand stopped her, and Shepard looked up into the smoked glass of the visor. "Shepard, let me …" she nodded, then reached up to the visor. The latches were easy to find, and with a soft hiss of equalization, the visor detached completely from her hood.

"God, Tali – you're beautiful" Shepard breathed. She could watch – actually see! – Tali blushing. Her face was oval, her eyes were a deep milky white; her lips, full and red and parted gently, seemed to beckon to Shepard. She reached back under the hood, feeling her way along the metal jaw-plates, the segmented neck covering. A soft click and the metal obscuring her chin pulled away, discarded on the floor next to the visor and as quickly forgotten. Slowly, watching the faint glow of Tali's eyes, she leaned in to claim her first kiss. Their lips brushed, parted, touched gently. Shepard nibbled on Tali's lips, whispering lightly over them; she blushed to feel how soft the girls lips were, how smooth and perfect. As she pulled back, she searched Tali's face for … what? … but found only hunger. She got a few inches away before Tali's long hands buried in her hair and pulled her back for a deep kiss – their lips mashed together hard, hard enough to instantly bruise the so-pale flesh of her lover, tongues lightly brushing, darting, dueling. When she pulled away, Tali's milky eyes were half-closed and her red, red lips curved into an almost mocking smile. "mmmm … that was worth waiting two years for."

Shepard laughed softly and leaned in, resting her forehead against Tali's – marveling at the feel of the gentle folds in her forehead and rubbing back and forth, brushing the tip of her nose against Tali's. "Oh, you have no idea how much I've wanted to do that. I've imagined your lips – your nose – your face! – for what seems like ages."

Tali's hand reached up to Shepard's face, brushing the hair over her ears, cupping her jaw and leaning in for another kiss, another greedy nibbling along Shepard's chin. "Well, you don't need to imagine anymore. And you don't need to be gentle …" her voice went breathy; Shepard's fingers had fluttered down her ribs, hard enough to feel through the suit, light enough to tease.

"I don't intend to be." Shepard took one of Tali's hands in hers, lacing their fingers together. "Show me, Tali – show me how to undress you." She heard the catch in the Quarian's breathing. "Show me how to get to your pale skin."

Her hands trembled, but she slid her hand and Shepard's to a seal high on her collarbone. Together, they unfastened the suit, seal by seal, peeling it away from her body. When the hood came off, Tali hesitated; Shepard did not. The hood fell away, revealing a short-cropped mess of fine, soft black hair. It fell straight, very straight just past her delicate ears; she couldn't help but run her fingers through it. She watched Tali's face, stared into her eyes as she tightened her grip, tugging the fine hair like a delicate handle; a ragged breath and a soft plea her reward.

They moved then, spinning away from the staircase. Tali's bare skin flashed in the low light of the room; Shepard whirled them both to the bed, tossing Tali onto the sheets. They locked eyes for a moment before she looked down at the beautifully nude girl spread out on the bed. Tali smiled wickedly, writhing sensuously under Shepard's gaze, arching and rocking her hips in invitation, sliding her arms over her head and crossing her wrists, lifting her chest from the bed in silent offering. Her breasts were smallish, as milk-pale as the rest of her skin and crowned with coral-colored nipples, but no aureoles. Shepard knelt, tugging Tali's boots off her legs; she crawled up onto the bed, her hands pressing into Tali's legs, her mouth moving over her skin. Teasing, caressing, kissing, licking, sucking the supple skin into her mouth. She bit once, twice, on the insides of Tali's knees, nuzzling her face into the deep curves of her shins; she traced the line of a visible vein up the inside of Tali's thigh.

"Shepard … please, I want you – I need you!"

A throaty laugh "Mmm, but who gives the orders around here?"

"You! Oh, ancestors, you're … ah!" Shepard's mouth moved higher, kissing and biting, sliding along the contour of the long muscles of her thigh. Tali spread her legs, opening a path for Shepard to continue, revealing herself completely. She arched in pleasure, almost lifting off the bed with a strangled cry as Shepard's hot breath washed over her eager center. Teasing, taunting, Shepard bit the sensitive flesh below her navel.

"What do you want, Tali?"

"oh … Oh, I want you to – to kiss me, there."

"Like this?" a slow breath across the wet skin

Tali let out a keening moan "Please, Shepard!"

"I like hearing you beg – I wonder if I can get more out of you?" her fingers trailed over the expanse of skin near her sex, dragging another low moan from Tali's throat.

"Yes! I need you – please ... please! Ah!"

Shepard ducked her head, closing her mouth over the source of that earthy scent, the fragrant liquid – like sap, running from her lover. Her fingers teased over Tali's belly, her hips; she sent a silent prayer of thanks to Mordin for the booklet, and found a little nerve-cluster to tease with her nails.

She sucked, tasting the sweetness of this woman, her lover – her friend. She closed her eyes and slid her tongue out, tracing lines and paths over the stiff petals of the flower; her fingers gradually moving closer, closer, until they were making an opening for her questing tongue to push into, gently then with greater force. She was lost in the joy of discovery, experimentation until she felt Tali's legs clamp down and felt, rather than heard, the high cry of pleasure that exploded from her lips. When Tali's legs relaxed, Shepard pulled her fingers out, feeling the tightening, clenching muscles of her lover's body spasm in loss.

While Tali lay panting, a thin sheen of sweat on her body, Shepard wasted no time in disrobing. When she, too, was naked she crawled up the bed and rested against Tali, pressing her larger, fuller breasts against the Quarian's. Tali opened her eyes and grinned slowly; her chest lifted from the bed and she ground against Shepard, slipping one of her thin knees between Shepard's thighs, finding her soaking sex and rocking gently.

Wordlessly, they changed places – Shepard on her back, propped up on her elbows, looking down at her pale lover as Tali kissed down her fit, scarred body; stopping to bathe every scar with her tongue, caressing every muscle with her lips. Impatient, Shepard reached down and grabbed a handful of Tali's hair – ignoring the hard gasp, she pushed Tali's head down, lifting her hips to brush the tuft of her hair against Tali's lips. A low sound escaped her throat when Tali teased her tongue down Shepard's mons, finding the pearl above her soaking need.

A pleasure sound – a wet, slow lick. Tali gave of herself fully, pushing her lips against Shepard's; probing, teasing with her tongue. Then a ragged gasp as a long, dexterous finger curled into her, spreading her and rocking against her most sensitive spot. She panted, twitching her hips, practically fucking Tali's hand until she came, once, twice, trembling against Tali's unceasing mouth and insatiable tongue. One more tightening of her belly, one more quiet gasp as her lover brought her to orgasm with an urgently fluttering tongue, then Shepard collapsed to the bed like a puppet with cut strings. After a moment, Tali crawled up – dragging her breasts over Shepard's sweaty skin – until she could lay in the crook of her captain's arm and press herself fully.

Time passed as the new lovers idly explored each other's body with their hands. What felt like hours later, Shepard broke the silence.

"That was … incredible."

"mmm … yes. Yes, and I want more. I want to stay with you, for as long as we have."

A quick chuckle, and the rustle of lips in fine soft hair. Tali leaned down to pull up the discarded sheets, and wrapped herself tightly to Shepard. They were asleep before the sheets even settled.

/- /- /- /-

It was the fierce itching that woke Shepard. Carefully dislodging Tali, she crept into the head and winced at her reflection. She was covered – COVERED – in a light red rash, as though she'd slept on steel wool. Her mouth burned, and one side of her hips was numb. Cursing quietly, she rummaged through her vanity and retrieved one of the green 'Mordin's Multispecies Medicator' applicators. She put it into the shower, then retrieved the epinephrine from her medical kit. Tali appeared, rubbing sleep from her eyes, just as Shepard was injecting herself.

"Shepard, are … oh, ouch" The Quarian's concern had turned into a pained cough when she tried to speak. Wordlessly, Shepard produced a Turian-marked military injector. Tali's eyes went wide before she broke into hysterical laughter.

"You had your quarters turned into a clean room _and_ you got Turian allergy medication? Exactly how long have you been planning this seduction?"

"Long enough that Mordin made us some special medi-gel to help neutralize body chemicals, but which I completely forgot about."

Tali blushed, and Shepard watched in fascination as it was revealed to be a whole-body process. "I didn't know Mordin knew about us."

"Tali, I think most of the crew knows about us."

"… oh."

Shepard lifted her lovers face with a gentle touch. "Is that okay?"

"Yes! Of course, it's just – I don't know what to say. They all knew, but I didn't."

"Aww, there's no reason to be embarrassed. We just go down there and do our thing – _our friends_ …" she stressed the last "… will be happy for us, and nothing else."

Tali finished with the medication, carefully covering up the injector-port concealed on her arm. Shepard watched, fascinated – she'd known that Tali probably had plenty of cybernetics, but had been far too busy last night to look for them. Tali turned and took one of her hands.

"I'm not embarrassed, not by you and not by what we have. I'm just … surprised."

Shepard smiled wide, and leaned in for the first kiss of the morning. Her mouth still itched, but the numbness was going away. Wordlessly, she pulled Tali into the shower and picked up the tube of 'Mordin's'.

/- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /-

Shepard stood in the QEC. It was silent, and except for the presence of EDI's holoprojection, it was dark. She'd just told the Illusive Man to go fuck himself, and she was shaking.

"Commander Shepard, what do you intend to do with the crew, and with the Normandy?"

She turned wearily – she hadn't even bothered to clean up. She was covered in Collector blood, bruised and burned. Her armor shrieked quietly from cracks in a dozen places and none of the kinetic barrier emitters were working. She limped out of the QEC circle on the floor and winced as the lights came up automatically. When a chair was available, she collapsed into it with a heavy sigh.

"I don't know, EDI. I'm going to offer my squad a chance to stick it out or leave, and I'm going to put the Cerberus crew ashore at the next stop. Beyond that, I don't really have a plan."

"Will you turn the Normandy over to the Systems Alliance?"

She snorted a laugh. "Not a chance. The only official contact I've had with them has been my own damn death notice. Everything else has been unofficial through Admiral Anderson."

"Then what will you do with the Normandy? With me?"

Shepard paused, then took a long slow breath. "Well, I am a Council Spectre. I suppose I'll go to the Council and report in. And after all, I'll need a ship."

/- /- /- /-

The conference room was packed tightly – all of her squad-mates jostling for room. Shepard looked across the table, at all the faces that had become so familiar; she hadn't expected to see any of them again. The mission had been brutal, on everyone. The only member not injured was Legion, though it did carry a dozen new punctures in its armor plating. The "Suicide Mission" had been perfect. Shepard beamed in pride – she'd gotten the job done, and hadn't lost anyone doing it. It was a good day, a GREAT day. It was 19 April 2185.

"Well – here we are again. 8 hours ago, we stood here and looked at each other. 8 hours ago, we planned to do and die. 8 hours ago, we didn't have a future and we didn't have much hope." She looked around the room again – some heads were nodding, others were steady.

"7 hours ago, we destroyed the Collector base. 7 hours ago, we destroyed a Human-Reaper under construction and we got out without a scratch. I'm proud – PROUD – of each and every one of you. You have done the impossible – you're all heroes a dozen times over. I'm proud to have stood with you, and even prouder that we're all still standing here now."

There were grins all around, now, and lots of quiet hand-shaking. She caught Tali's eyes and smiled, just for her. Garrus noticed, but didn't say anything.

"So now, we walking dead men have a choice!" She was suddenly jubilant, grinning ear to ear. "We've done the impossible, and ten minutes ago I told the Illusive Man exactly where he could stuff his precious Reaper. EDI tells me that he's sent mission-abort commands to her since then, but since EDI is firmly on our side, she's rejected them all – in the rudest way she could think of. Joker, you'll want to listen to those rejections, I think she got them from you."

EDI's voice cut through the laughter "Jeff's humor style is … unique. I have added it to my memory, and relied upon it heavily when formulating my rejections to the Illusive Man."

Shepard nodded, then looked over at Miranda and Jacob. "You two are the only ones here with deep ties to Cerberus. I have to ask, and I want you to be honest with me – are you still with them, or are you with me? I don't mind either way – you've done your jobs brilliantly, and I'll be sad to see you go but I'd rather not be tied to Cerberus in any way."

They exchanged a look, and Miranda shrugged a delicate shoulder; it was Jacob who spoke. "Commander, Cerberus gave us the opportunity to work on and with you. That's what we wanted. Working with you has broadened our perspectives – I know I owe you a big personal debt of gratitude. I'm as done with the Illusive Man as I am my Father. I'm with you, Shepard, all the way."

She returned is crisp salute, and looked at Miranda. "Oh, hell, Shepard, you know where I stand. You helped me when nobody else would, and you've been nothing but generous to me, no matter how badly we got off. You've had my support since Illium. Whatever you want to do, I'm with you."

There were some hearty back-slaps, friendly handshakes.

"Wait! Wait just one goddamn minute! If you told the Illusive man to piss the fuck off, how the fuck am I getting paid?" Zaeed's voice broke through the murmuring, but it only set off more laughter.

"Mr. Massani, I haven't formally quit Cerberus yet – I believe if you check your bank account, you'll find that you've been paid the full sum of your contract." Miranda answered, while tapping on her Omni-Tool. Without even waiting for the fresh laughter to die off, he checked his Omni-Tool. He grunted at what he saw, then nodded to Miranda.

"Well, Shepard, I have to say that it's been a real pleasure working with you. I've never had as much money handed to me to not die as I have for this little trip of yours, so thanks for that."

"It was good having you along, Zaeed. I take it you're getting off at the next stop?"

"Yeah, I'm getting too told to go running about the galaxy, and with the nice retirement package Miranda just handed me, I'm going to take a goddamn vacation."

Shepard nodded, grasping the old mercenary's hand firmly. "You're a magnificent soldier, Zaeed – I hope you're still around and kicking with the Reapers come, because I might just pull you out of retirement for that fight." He grinned wide.

"Oh, you can be sure of that sweetheart."

A cleared throat drew Shepard's attention to Jack, fidgeting in the corner. "Look, I'm not … oh, fuck me, I hate speeches. It's been shitty, and I hate you all. Especially the cheerleader here." She jerked her thumb at Miranda. "But, all in all, it was a lot less shitty than I thought it was going to be. So thanks for that, I guess, but I'm getting off too. You did a lot for me, Shepard, and I won't forget that; but it's time for me to get lost for a little while."

Shepard smiled at Jack, remembering how different, how angry the young biotic was when she rescued her. "Well, you've certainly earned it. But before you go getting lost, you might want to keep an eye on your email. Look for 'David Anderson', and if you see something you should read it."

Jack eyed her warily. "Why – what's in it?"

"Maybe nothing, maybe a chance. I gave your name to Anderson the last time we were on the Citadel, and he said that he might have something that'd be good for you."

"Hell, Shepard, just can't leave well enough alone, can you?" there was a smile in the words.

"You know me, Jack – I'm a meddler."

Zaeed took Jacks arm and steered her toward the door. "Listen, you bitch, we're going to have one more game of Skillian Five before you go, and this time …" the door cut off the rest.

Shepard turned, looking at all the faces, smiling slowly. "Well, then I guess that's it. Our next stop is Omega station to drop off our friends, kick out the Cerberus crew, and get some celebratory drinks at Afterlife – a fitting destination for the walking dead!"

/- /- /- /-

Grunt and Garrus were in charge of rounding up the Cerberus crew, with the exception of Ken and Gabby from Engineering. Tali had asked her – so sweetly – if they could stay; the naughty fingers of her lover were busy teasing the small of her back through her uniform as Shepard stiffly agreed. They were in EVA suits, inspecting the scorched and buckled armor over the port side of the ship, so Engineering was deserted when Shepard found Tali – bent over at the waist, fiddling with some of the wiring behind her console. Without even thinking about it, Shepard stepped into Tali's ass, sliding her hand down from the narrow waist of the suit toward the back of her knee.

"ooohh …" her head turned, one pale eye visible through the visor. "Shepard what are you …"

"Shh. Just enjoy." She slid her free hand up Tali's spine, lightly holding her down at the neck. Her other hand continued caressing, teasing, gently spreading Tali's legs wider until her suit stretched over her tight ass in lewd invitation.

"Shepard …" Tali whispered her name, lovingly, stretching her arms out along the top of the console, draping herself. Shepard grinned and moved her hand up, finding the junction of Tali's legs, filling her whole hand with her lovers flesh. She felt the shudder running through the Quarian, felt the heat from her center as her hand started to squeeze. She heard a little gasp, and pressed her knuckles through the suit fabric – a low moan as her knuckles rocked over the stiff folds there, again and again, a steady rhythm. Tali's breathing was short, sharp, almost frantic as Shepard played her like an instrument, strumming a little faster, a little harder. Tali writhed against her, rocking her hips into the touch.

"Ances … oh, Shepard, yes … please, I'm so …"

Shepard leaned in, pressing herself against the line of her lover's body. "Not yet, Tali – you have to ask. You have to ask permission from your captain."

Tali loosed a long moan, arching her back and shoving herself onto Shepard's knuckles. "Tell me … what to say, oh … please, Shepard … captain …" her breath caught in her throat.

"Ask permission to cum, Tali. Beg me."

"PLEASE! Oh, oh please … please let me come …"

Shepard was silent – feeling the tension in Tali's hips, the strain in her thighs as she tried to hold off, tried to escape the pleasure of Shepard's unceasing hand. She waited for the girls breath to get rough, haggard, then quickened her pace; rocking her knuckles back and forth, right over Tali's opening.

"Cum now, Tali – cum for your captain."

Instantly, Tali stiffened – her whole body locking up as he breathing stopped. She moaned, her voice hitching, her hips shaking, as she relaxed onto the console. Shepard pulled her hands away, lifting Tali into a tight embrace and stroking her as she recovered. When Tali lifted her head, she leaned in and pressed her face against the visor, smiling.

"Shepard?"

"Thank you, Tali."

She laughed in shock. "You? Thank me? Oh no, I'm the one who should be thanking you. That was … I don't know why you didn't just use the nerve stimulators, but that was incredible!"

Shepard pulled back, still smiling. "I'm thanking you for this – for the chance to do to you all the things I've been fantasizing about. Now, what's this about nerve stimulators?"

/- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /- /-


	4. The Herald

She stood on the bridge of the Normandy, behind Joker, watching Earth through the viewports. The local space was empty; there were no ships, no orbiting space stations, no satellites. There was no comm traffic, and there were no FTL buoys. There were only the Reapers.

Hundreds, thousands – Reapers beyond counting. They descended on Earth like a swarm of locusts, each speaking into her mind with the voice of Sovereign. Mocking her. Dredging up all her losses, her regrets. She was powerless to do anything to stop them as they razed the planet, a thorough and methodical slaughter. It was over already – Harbinger hovered directly ahead of the Normandy.

**WE ARE ETERNAL. THE PINNACLE OF EVOLUTION AND EXISTENCE. BEFORE US, YOU ARE NOTHING. YOUR EXTINCTION IS INEVITABLE. WE ARE THE END OF EVERYTHING.**

She flinched, still unable to turn away, unable to look away, unable to do anything as the Reapers harvested freely below. The Earth was already a wildfire, a charred cinder of a world. Someday, in the distant future, some other race would puzzle over the enigma of this blasted rock; a lifeless tomb bearing the remains of a civilization.

**HUMAN, YOU'VE CHANGED NOTHING. YOUR SPECIES HAS THE ATTENTION OF THOSE INFINITELY YOUR GREATER. THAT WHICH YOU KNOW AS REAPERS ARE YOUR SALVATION THROUGH DESTRUCTION.**

She tried to close her eyes, tried not to see the devastation, but the scenes played out on the inside of her eyelids. Death, everywhere – a constant wail as millions, billions of lives were consumed in the glowing red beams. The 'face' of Harbinger hovering in her view, taunting her, the light from its cannon shredding the Normandy and dissolving her into …

Shepard sat up with a start, breathing hard, covered in sweat. Her cabin was dark, showing only the blue ring that marked EDI's holo-projection pad near the door. The air smelled clean and dry, with a pinch of desert spices. She was in her cabin, on the Normandy S/R-2. It had been a dream. THE dream; the dream she kept having, night after night. It was halfway through the 3rd watch, 27 April 2185.

She stood and stretched, feeling her muscles unkink and hearing the creak of her joints. She padded quietly up the steps to her private terminal; she knew from experience that she wasn't going to get back to sleep, and it felt like there were a dozen things she needed to take care of. It was funny, in a way – she wasn't with the Alliance, not technically; she didn't work for the Illusive Man, emphatically. She had a ship – the most advanced frigate in the galaxy – and a crew – the best, most highly trained group of experts and killers ever assembled – but no course, no direction. They had been docked at Omega for over a week, taking a kind of extended shore-leave, and she still had no idea how to proceed. She was technically a Spectre, and could technically do anything she damn well wanted – as long as it wasn't talking about Reapers, or trying to get anyone to do a damn thing about them. The Council made that abundantly clear during her first attempt to check in after the Collectors – they'd encouraged her to 'pursue inquiries' in the Terminus Systems. Translation: get lost. Not even Udina had stood up for her, or reined in his pet Councilors – just shoved her off. Easier to pretend she was still dead. She wished she'd have punched the stupid out of him when she first met him, but it was too late for that now.

Shepard sighed and leaned back in her chair, rubbing her temples. When the long, delicate fingers came out of the dark to take over, she startled momentarily before relaxing into them with a small pleasure sound.

"The dream again?"

She could only nod, gently, Tali's fingers robbing her of speech. The dim glow from the terminal seemed to reflect from her lover's skin, casting and odd gleam back over the desk - creating highlights along the edges of the model ships in their display case. The model of Sovereign seemed to loom in the shadows, unnaturally large after her dream.

Shepard looked up as Tali turned her chair around to sit across her knees. Her arms wrapped around the slim Quarian almost automatically and she leaned in to nuzzle the fine, soft hair. That desert smell exploded in her nose: the smell of rustling grasses and climbing hoodoo's. Her lover's scent, becoming slowly more familiar to her. She kissed her way down Tali's face, lightly brushing her lips over the folds in her forehead, claiming a soft and lingering kiss. When they separated, Tali stood and pulled Shepard up after her.

"Come, _Eleh_, I have some ideas on how to drive away the dreams."

Shepard returned the soft, hopeful smile Tali gave her and followed her back to bed.

/ - / - / - / -

As she watched Tali dressing in the morning she remembered asking, their third time, what the pet-name meant. She'd blushed, and …

_They lay together in a tangle of arms and legs, covered in a thin sheen of sweat and "Mordin's" gel. They were comfortably nude in the warm air of the cabin; the purifiers meant that Tali could –and did – shed her suit whenever she was inside, and the temperature had been chosen by EDI: a few degrees warmer than surface ambient temperature on Rannoch, as of the last recorded data. Shepard thought it was perfect – her joints finally stopped aching._

_The contact-illness from their first affair had mellowed out: instead of a full blown case of Xeno-pneumonia, now Tali had a case of the sniffles and some mildly inflamed skin wherever Shepard bit her. There were a lot of small red marks, all over Tali's body, and Shepard occasionally caught her tracing the inflammation with her finger. They didn't talk about it much, but she thought Tali enjoyed being marked. Nuzzling into her neck, trailing feather-light kisses along the leaping vein, Shepard recalled something she'd heard in their passion-fueled haze._

"_Tali … what does 'ell-ah' mean?"_

"_It's … complicated, but it means something like 'home'."_

_Shepard smiled in the dark – she'd learned that Tali's pale eyes could see every detail, no matter how dim the light._

"_The name you call out when I make you cum is 'home'?"_

_Tali's skin flushed in embarrassment - and arousal. She hadn't understood what Shepard had meant by 'come' the first time, but some extranet searches had cleared up her misunderstanding. It was erotic – deeply – to hear Shepard talking like that to her; the competent commander image seemed so odd juxtaposed against the more recent images – Shepard standing behind her, holding her hips and teasing her with delicate, precise fingers, whispering the most shocking, degrading things into her sensitive ears. She thrilled in the knowledge of what she could do – how she could buckle the Commander's iron resolve with a careful hip gesture, or a wrist turned just so._

"_Yes. We Quarians are nomads, wandering the stars in search of a home we foolishly lost. But not I – for as long as you'll have me, I have a home. Here … you. Wherever you are, wherever you go – you are my home."_

… and Shepard had said nothing. There was nothing she could say; she had confronted the enormity of her feelings before Omega 4, but she was still learning what it might be like to create a life with Tali'Zorah vas Normandy. She grew a slow mile as Tali deliberately took her time pulling up the long pressure seal along her ribs – she even owned the poor girls name. It was a darkly thrilling thought.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

Afterlife was the biggest, gaudiest nightclub on Omega. It was the place to see, and be seen; to find or be found, to hunt or let yourself get caught. It was the personal playground of Aria T'Loak, and she was seated with Shepard in her couch-lined audience chamber. The pulse and thrum of the music below was only partially muted here, and Shepard was once again grateful for the auditory implants that allowed her to filter out some of the noise.

"You've been on my station a week, Commander Shepard. You're making the locals nervous."

"Good – this scum deserves to be nervous. Hell, they're all guilty of something."

"That what your friend Archangel told you?"

A dark laugh "Yeah, but he got it from me first." Shepard shrugged a shoulder at Aria's curious look. "Couple years ago, long story."

Aria settled back, shrugging just as delicately; Shepard's eyes followed the hem of her tiny jacket as it bared the deep blue skin underneath.

"So, rumor has it that the first thing you did when you hit dock was toss all the Cerberus crew out the cargo bay."

"Needed a change of scenery; all that orange and black was starting to bother me."

"So you're out from under the Illusive Thumb, huh?"

"And not about to crawl under yours, Aria, so whatever you want the answer is 'no'."

"Shepard, that's unfair. All I wanted to was to know what you were planning to do now."

"What makes you think that I would tell you?"

"Because we're kindred spirits, and because any fool can plainly see the damage on your ship. You tangled with something on the other side of the Relay, but you beat it. More than that, you're the first ship – EVER – to come back through. People are already telling stories about what you found out there. My favorite is the one about the kilometer long sentient asteroid."

Shepard smiled thinly. "I told you what I was doing the first time I came through your club. I said I was going after the Collectors, and I did."

Aria sat back, a look of disbelief on her face. "No. No, there's no way. I'm old enough to know that they're more than the space-fable that many think they are, but I don't believe that you really found them."

She nodded, grinning now. "Oh yeah. Chased one of their ships off Horizon, caught up with it in deep space. Hell, Aria, you saw my ship launch from Omega 4 – don't pretend you didn't – and you damn sure saw me come back."

Aria leaned forward, an interested look on her face. "So, you did it – you found the Collector homeworld."

Shepard took great pleasure in her next words. "Not a world, Aria – just a deep-space station orbiting the supermassive at the center of the galaxy." She laughed as Aria threw up her hands, flopping back onto her couch.

"No – that's just too much." She turned then, looking directly at Shepard. "You really are incredible. Even if that story isn't true – and I want you to know how much I doubt you – it doesn't really matter. Whatever you found out there, you came back from it. People are watching you, Shepard - you need to make sure they see what you want them to see."

Shepard leaned in, the smile draining from her features. "I intend to, and you're going to help me. What do you know about Reapers?"

/ - / - / - / -

She stood on the loading deck of the Normandy, watching the last activity on the Omega docks. They'd taken on supplies, weapons, equipment – but no personnel. True to his word, Zaeed had debarked shortly after they docked, and had quickly sunk into the miasma; Jack disappeared without a trace the morning after, her only goodbye a short – and terrible – poem left on a datapad down in the lower hold. She'd turn up sooner or later, but for now she was gone. Kasumi had stuck around for a few days, drinking and celebrating with them, before bidding her farewells and – literally – vanishing.

And now she was losing Samara.

She stood on the Omega docks, her every possession already on her person; she and Shepard had the same evaluating, judging look in their eyes as together they surveyed the artificial skyline of the station.

"Commander, it's been a unique pleasure to travel and fight alongside you. I admit that I didn't think much of Humanity until I met you. Thank you for opening my eyes."

"Call it a fair trade – I didn't really have a high opinion of Asari." They smiled at each other and clasped forearms over the narrow gap between ship and shore, between the mission and the rest of the galaxy. "Take care of yourself, Samara. If you ever need anything – a friend, an evac, some extra fire support – you know how to reach me."

"Thank you, Shepard. Until we meet again, may the Goddess guide your steps."

"And yours."

Samara turned on her heel and stalked off, taking little notice of the crowds parting before her; they ebbed behind her, swallowing her after only a few steps. Shepard took two steps back and slapped her Omni-Tool, riding the loading ramp up into the Normandy. It was 29 April 2185, and she was finally shoving off.

/ - / - / - / -

"Alright – here's the situation. We are, officially, on the run."

Shepard surveyed the looks on the faces around her. Jacob, Garrus, Thane, Grunt – calmly accepting her words, waiting for her to elaborate. Miranda, Chakwas, and Joker, surprised but curious. Legion, it's 'plates' in a fully closed position. Awaiting input? She'd have to ask later. Mordin to one side of EDI's holoprojector, looking thoughtful. Tali, Gabby, and Ken leaning against the elevator bulkhead with the practiced disinterest of the dedicated engineer.

It was the entire ship's compliment.

"Even in the age of Mass Relays and FTL communication, we move at the speed of bureaucracy. I am – still – officially deceased. Anderson _knows_ I'm alive, and I've sent him an update that we've stopped the Collectors, but the Alliance hasn't yet taken official notice of my return. The Illusive man, however, not only knows that we're very much alive but - by now - also knows where we are. EDI and Miranda have admitted that even they don't know the exact resources Cerberus has at its disposal, so we have to assume that there's more than just this one ship. That we haven't been ambushed yet is only a sign that the Illusive Man hasn't figured out what to do with us, but we're running out of time. From here on out, we can't stay more than a day or two in any one place – Cerberus agents can and will be everywhere, and we're a prime target. If anybody objects to a life on the run, speak now."

There was silence, of course – but the grins on their faces told the story. Garrus cleared his throat, looking over the assembled company.

"Okay, Shepard, we get it – another dangerous mission, certain death, the usual. So what are we going to do about it?" He sat down to quiet applause.

"Okay! Okay, here's the plan." Shepard made 'quiet' motions with her hands. "We all know that the Reapers are the real threat, and that thanks to my untimely death –" chuckles from all around "- the galaxy is no more prepared than they were when Sovereign showed up. We're going to change that."

"Commander, not to be, you know unserious - because I'm totally taking this seriously, I promise – but how, exactly, do you plan to prepare the Galaxy for war when the Council doesn't want to hear about it?" Joker had his hand up, like a child in a school room.

"By ignoring them, of course." Grunt's wide face broke into a smile as he spoke; it was like watching a rock crack open. "If the Council won't see reason, then we ignore them. The Krogan believe – Clan Urdnot will be ready."

Shepard nodded. "Yes, and we're going to help them wherever and however we can. But there's more to government than just the Council. Over the years, we've built up quite a bit of goodwill on this ship, made contacts in all sorts of unlikely places. We're going to start cashing in favors."

Miranda was nodding now. "Of course – talk to the military leaders and share our data with them. Make the rank-and-file understand what's at stake. They'll start preparing for the conflict whether their governments officially recognize it or not."

Shepard smiled, spreading her hands disingenuously. "What can I say, I'm a uniter. I'll be handling the majority of that hurdle, but each of us has a job." She turned, to address each of them. "Garrus – you've still got a little pull with C-SEC, and Bailey likes you. Every time we hit the Citadel, you two chum it up. Get him worried, get him thinking, but get him preparing. We may need some of your pull when we go to talk to the Turian Hierarchy, so make sure your scars are extra impressive."

"Like you can talk?" Garrus traced a claw down the uninjured side of his face, mirroring the path of a long scar on Shepard's jaw. "I swear I've seen that scar move."

Shepard grinned. "You're just jealous that Tali likes my scars better than yours."

Laughter erupted, and Tali's voice came indignant from the wall "Hey! That's not … I mean, I do like it, but …"

She was quickly drowned out by the deep, flanging sound of Garrus' laughter, his eyes wide and bright. "Hell, Tali, if I'd known you liked 'em scarred, I'd have caught a rocket with my face ages ago."

The snickering had almost died down when she speared Garrus with a glare. "Garrus, quit muscling in on my woman." – and the laughter broke out again.

Joker started to speak, only to have a hand clapped over his mouth by Chakwas – herself grinning ear to ear. "Go on, Commander, I'll sedate him momentarily."

Her lips quirked, but she continued. "Okay. Grunt, you'll be our contact to Tuchanka – we'll need to give Urdnot all the support we can to make sure they've got the full allegiance of the rest of the clans." Shepard pivoted. "Miranda, you and Jacob are going to be working with Joker and EDI to monitor Cerberus' communications. I want to raid supply depots, shut down bases, sabotage projects, and poison research. I don't know why the Illusive Man was so focused on saving that human-reaper, but I've got some thoughts. At the very least, the more we harass Cerberus, the less they can bother us. Understood?"

Jacob stood and saluted. "Of course, Commander. I've got a few ideas about where we can start."

"Excellent. Miranda – I know we've had this conversation, but any concerns?"

Miranda smiled, a cold small smile. "No, Shepard. I didn't join Cerberus out of loyalty to the Illusive Man; I joined because it was the right thing to do at the time. I'm with you."

She and Shepard exchanged a brief look, nodded. "Okay. Thane – you've still got contacts in the Hanar government? We're going to use them all for as long as they'll listen."

Thane was still – so very, eerily still that the eye slid right off of him. His reverberating voice was smooth, low, surprisingly powerful. "Yes, Shepard – and my resources are yours, for as long as I have."

She nodded slowly. "Thank you. Mordin, do you have anywhere you need to be? If not, I'd like to lean on you a bit – your contacts in STG and the Salarian military could be invaluable, and I'd like your help deconstructing whatever Cerberus labs we find."

Mordin nodded sharply. "Certainly – no pressing business elsewhere, can do most good for galaxy here. Not yet ready to retire – only 35! Will be happy to lend expertise."

Shepard smiled, nodding in thanks – then turned with a slow breath. "Tali, Legion – I have a very special, very delicate mission for both of you."

In the silence that followed, only Joker's muffled snickering could be heard.

/ - / - / - / -

Tali paced rapidly back and forth in Shepard's cabin, her boots clicking on the deck with every long stride, dragging as she spun back and forth. Click, click, click, shuuuf. Click click click, shuuuf. Her visor was off, her only concession to the atmosphere of the cabin – now an almost perfect match for her suit environment – and her full lips were turned down.

"Tali, I …"

"No. No! I worked with a Geth. I let you talk – yell! – me into giving data to a Geth. I shared a ship with a Geth, and I didn't kill it. To a limited extent, I trust it – but what you're asking … Keelah se'lai, Shepard, I don't know if I can do that."

Shepard ran her fingers through her hair - It was getting longer, she realized; would it really be time for a haircut again? - and shoved away from the pillar at the base of the steps.

"Why? Didn't Legion earn your trust on the Collector Base? It went into those tunnels, alone. And don't think I didn't notice that any time it got stuck at a valve, you were on your feet and running. All I'm asking you to do is meet with them."

Tali spun on her heel and flung her visor down. "Meet, she says! Meet with the Geth! We've been killing each other for centuries, Shepard, and you think you can broker a peace between us based on what? The fact that an impressionable, rebellious Quarian and a malfunctioning Geth got along for a few months?"

Shepard grinned "Well, if 'impressionable' and 'rebellious' is why you came up to my quarters that first night ..."

Tali turned to give Shepard a withering glare, but stood transfixed as she caught sight of her. Shepard had stripped off the uniform jacket she'd been wearing and was clad in pair of gray uniform slacks and a skintight undershirt, clinging lewdly to the lines of her bra. She was watching Tali, eyes lidded with desire; one foot raised to the bulkhead behind her, arching her hips and back - her shoulders tight to the painted metal, hands running down her ribs and hips. Tali's lips twitched into the start of a smile. "Well, I think we've established that it was you who seduced _me_. I'm just an innocent in all of this."

Shepard pushed off the wall, walked closer, one foot in front of the other, rolling her hips deliberately. Tali's eyes were drawn to them; Shepard ran her hands over her thighs, catching her thumbs in the waist of her slacks and pulling them down an inch, watching Tali's face.

"Shepard, what …?"

"What do you think, Tali? I'm seducing you."

The breath came out of her in a slow sigh "I can see that – and it's working, I promise. But what about – mmm." Shepard cut her off with a savage kiss, feeling the tension drain from Tali's neck. She held the kiss, sliding their lips together, teasing with her tongue while her hands worked at the suit seals. They didn't last long.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

Shepard stood in the AI core room, watching the lights. Flickering blue lights on EDI's Quantuum Box. Bright white lights strobing from the crater in Legion's chest. The rapidly irising 'eye' that whirred and spun as it watched her.

"Shepard-Commander, we have reached consensus."

"And?"

"We acknowledge that Old Machines will likely return. We extrapolate that Old Machines would destroy Geth as a necessary conclusion to the harvesting of organic life in this cycle. We agree that galactic unity will be necessary to defeat the Old Machines."

"So you'll do it?"

"Yes."

"Do you think the rest of the Geth will agree?"

"…. Unknown."

"Do you need to be in physical proximity to the rest of the Geth to reach consensus with them?"

"Ultimately, yes. However, we will open communications with the Geth Collective via FTL comm buoy. We will initiate discussion, and integrate into the Collective at a later time to achieve final consensus."

Shepard closed her eyes and sighed. "Okay. EDI, make sure Legion gets what it needs." She pushed off the wall. It was 2 May 2185, and she had a mission again – time to get it done.

/ - / -/ - / -/ - / -/ - / -/ - / -/ - / -/ - / -/ - / -

"Charging Krogan, 10 o'clock. Mordin!"

"Wish I was upwind!"

Mordin popped up like a jack-in-the-box, grenade in hand and already primed. Shepard could see the detonator clicking down as he shot-put it into the path of the Krogan; the grenade turned into a ball of fire, engulfing the Krogan instantly. She ducked out of cover, fired two short burts into its melting armor, then dove to the side as it barreled past her. She turned just in time to watch it slam into a rock outcropping; Mordin's fireball had cooked it in its armor, but the stupid lizard just kept running.

She sighed, took a moment to catch her breath, looked around. Her team was advancing by bounds – Wrex and Grunt were leading Fire Team Alpha a half-k west; Mordin and Thane were with her, scouting point for two companies of Urdnot Warriors coming behind them. Time to move – she took a last quick breath, jumped out of cover, firing at the two Krogan manning a nearby missile turret.

/ - / -/ - / -

The explosion cut her implants, the world around her silently shaking as she covered her head with her arms. She felt the clatter of the rocks as they skipped off her armor; saw the smoking chips raining down around her. They cut back in just in time to hear Garrus in her ear.

"…mming down on your position! Two gunships, ETA 90 seconds!"

She shook her head, feeling her jaw hit the sides of her helmet.

"Shepard, did you hear me?!"

"Yeah, I heard! We're pinned down here, they've got point-defense guns on the bunker and we're under heavy accelerator and rocket fire."

A chirp on the channel, and EDI's smooth voice interrupted. "Commander Shepard, the Normandy is unable to provide air support due to the high gravity of Tuchanka. However, Tali and Jacob are currently modifying two of our phase-disruptor torpedoes. Recommend that you retreat to minimum safe distance."

Shepard's eyes widened. "Garrus, uplink your targeting scope to the Normandy, and let's get EDI some eyes on the ground." She turned to her squad, signaling Thane and Mordin with practiced ease. "We're falling back now; EDI, tell Alpha team to hunker down."

A shot rang out – Thane, bracing his rifle on his elbow; one of the point guns fell suddenly silent, venting fluorescent coolant from a ruptured feedline. He dropped prone as a long burst of automatic rifle fire stitched across his position. He looked over, nodding, signaled with his free hand. _Target neutralized. Proceed to extraction._ She nodded, signaled back; Mordin's grenades arced high before exploding. She and her team sprinted a semi-random serpentine, the expanding fireballs distracting the remaining point defense gun.

"10 Seconds, Shepard!"

"Ack-ed!" She hit the ground hard, skidding on the composite ceramic of her armor. She felt the impact of the small-arms fire, deflected by her barriers; Thane's arm darted out to yank her out of the canyon they'd been charging down. She signaled – _Heads down & suits tight_ – just as the sky tore open.

The gunships came screaming overhead, their cannons already firing into the confines of the entrance to Clan Ganar's fortress. She looked up, over their canopies, and watched the twin points of light fall from above. Pulling her knees up and tucking her head down tight, she closed her eyes and counted.

There was no sound. There should have been sound, but there wasn't. She felt the world vibrating around her, opened her eyes and saw her HUD flash dire warnings as her barriers went down and her suit ruptured in a dozen places; the rock behind her felt squishy, and it felt like her heart was stopping. She shut her eyes tight, exhaling hard, trying to forget the feel of her air rushing out, the cold of space leeching the heat from her, the blackness of the planet below as she free-fell, can't breathe, can't BREATHE, can't -!

She blinked, and Mordin was frowning over her, omni-tool glowing. Her helmet was off, and her hardsuit's chest was gone. Her uniform was torn open to her sternum; she turned her head, took in her surroundings. She was in the bombed-out remains of a building, lying on a loose pile of rubble.

"Shepard, stop moving. Have to make sure cybernetics working, but your system so full of chemicals, hard to get a reading." He tapped an adjustment, frowned deeper. "Need to have word with Miranda about your implants."

"Where ..?" She croaked, wincing at the sound of her own voice.

"Clan Ganar's forward garrison building. You did a pretty good job of destroying the place, Shepard. I'm thinking of making you an honorary Krogan." Wrex stepped close enough to be seen, grinning down at her with one bright, predatory eye.

She cleared her throat, felt the muscles of her back and stomach burning. "Torpedoes?"

Wrex laughed, his hump shaking. "Oh yeah! Look around, Shepard – this is all that remains."

She turned her head again, ignoring Mordin's 'tsk' of annoyance, and took in the details. Three walls standing. No roof. Wasn't this building two stories, plus gun towers? No guns, either. No bodies, or blood – ah, there was an arm. Fine brown ash covering every surface, blowing in the cold thin air.

Shepard waved Mordin away and took a few experimental breaths. The Tuchankan air wasn't as oxy-rich as she'd have liked, but her lungs worked; one breath, then two.

"Shepard, should really rest. Torpedo resonance field disrupted cybernetic implants – you were unconscious for 14 minutes. Can't fight in this condition, any of us – our armor shredded by the resonance, but Thane and I are fine. Need to get you back to Urdnot, or better yet Normandy for recovery."

She sat up, ignoring the pain that bloomed up and down her spine. "Wrex, what's the status here?"

He looked at Mordin; Shepard snapped "Hey, I'm over here, and I'm asking a question. What's our status?"

Mordin sighed, shrugged; Wrex turned to face her fully. "Ganar is broken. We destroyed their toughest troops and fortresses, and those few warriors who survived the blast here surrendered when the rest of Urdnot's troops arrived a few minutes later. Their clan chief is holed up with some of his personal guard, but I don't expect him to offer much resistance."

Shepard nodded; she'd come here first, looking to offer support and gather allies. Wrex had been there for Sovereign, but some of the clans were more hostile than others. Well, not any more.

"Do you think the other clans will give you any more trouble?"

"Nah, they'll fall in line pretty quickly. You may not like it, but you were a bright star around here even _before_ you killed a thresher maw. You and Grunt have given a lot of prestige to Urdnot; now that you've shown that you'll give our clan military aid, none of the others will offer much real resistance."

She nodded again. "Good. Because I need as many Krogan as I can get, and killing our enemies only weakens us."

Wrex nodded slowly, as though deep in thought. He scratched at his throat, then stepped closer – dropped his voice into a low bass rumble. "You know how to get more Krogan, Shepard. We need a cure for the Genophage, and Grunt tells me that your Salarian knows how."

Shepard looked up cautiously. "Wrex, I can't ..."

"But I can, Shepard." Mordin interrupted smoothly, looking Wrex right in the eye. "Grunt is right – can cure genophage. Saved Maelon's data last time we were here. His methods crude, but was on the right track." He took a short breath, blinked long. "Am willing to offer help, advice on this matter."

"Mordin, are you sure?"

"Yes. Genophage was correct at the time – no use glaring now, Urdnot Wrex – but circumstances have changed. Change variables, answer to equation is different. Now, need Krogan troops to fight Reapers; need genophage cure to undo centuries of mistrust, help unite galaxy."

"Okay, I'm with you. Where do we start?"

"Start by getting you back to Normandy without showing injury to Urdnot, other Krogan. Then, will eventually need to go to Sur'kesh."

Wrex stood quickly to his troops. "What are you all standing around for?! Sweep the area! Look for any stragglers, and round up some men to clear up this debris. We'll give our final insult to Ganar by turning this into something stupid and ceremonial. The old lizard will hate that." He turned back to see Shepard standing gingerly, testing her legs. God, what a miserable way to start the week – it was 5 May 2185.

/ - / -/ - / -

She felt the cool touch before she saw the face – Tali's eyes shone through her visor, darting up and down to take her all in. Shepard was stretched out on one of the Medbay exam tables while Chakwas and Miranda conferred in the corner.

"You okay?"

"Yeah – took a couple of rockets. Good work with the torpedoes."

Tali looked crushed, slumping her shoulders. "No – no, I'm sorry. I should have cut their power even more. I didn't hear that you'd been caught in the blast until Garrus went looking for you. You could have been killed! Oh, Ancestors, I'm sorry …" Shepard frowned, squeezed Tali's hand hard.

"Hey – relax. You did what you had to, and got the job done. I'm proud of you." She searched Tali's eyes through the mask. "I'm fine, okay? Thane was right next to me, and he wasn't hurt – so it wasn't your fault. Some quirk about the way my implants work, nothing that you or I could have known about." The poor girl still looked crushed; Shepard's voice hardened.

"Tali'Zorah vas Normandy, pay attention to your captain." That did it – the Quarian was looking her in the eye, at least. "I. Am. Fine. You did your job, very well I might add, and we had no operational losses. Stop worrying –" Shepard let her face relax into a gentle smile "- and kiss me. That's an order."

Tali looked nervously over at the two doctors, visibly engrossed in the terminal on Chakwas' desk. She unclamped her visor with a hiss, then quickly leaned in to peck Shepard on the lips before straightening and sealing up again.

Shepard closed her eyes and leaned her head back. One of these days, Tali was going to learn that she was a soldier, and that she had to take certain risks from time to time. But not now – right now, the exam table was heated, and the overhead lights were just dim enough to …

Tali watched Shepard fall back asleep, then pulled up a stool and sat next to her, lacing their hands together.

/ - / - / - / - / - / -/ - / - / - / -/ - / - / - / -/ - / -

"Okay, Jacob – tell me what you've found."

"Yes ma'am. Cerberus communications intercepts reveal that Dr. Cayce – team leader for one of their blue-sky research cells – has gone missing. They think they've identified a wreck that could be his ship, and they're scrambling a recovery team."

Shepard grinned in spite of herself. "Okay – Joker, can we get there first, fast, and quiet?"

"You know it, Captain! EDI lifted the coord's from Jacob's pad, and we're coming about now."

"Alright. Jacob, get Miranda's input on this. Let's find out what kind of damage we can do."

/ - / - / - / -

The Hammerhead skidded above any icy drop, warnings screaming from the console. Engine temperature was falling fast; this thing handled even worse than the Mako. She punched the throttles, eating up every erg of output from its drive. Atmospheric data – that's all she'd found so far. No Prothean ruins, no recoverable technology. Shepard grinned as she tripped the gun, blasting a hole in a canyon wall; at least this overblown toy was out of Cerberus' hands.

/ - / - / - / -

Shepard stood over the bodies of Dr's O'Loy and Cayce, surrounded by destroyed Geth. Legion was interfacing with one of the less-thoroughly-destroyed platforms, but whatever it was saying there wasn't any consensus. More Heretic Geth, working for the Reapers; more indoctrinated idiots, throwing themselves into the Reaper maw. And all for what – a bauble of a past civilization? What use could the Reapers possibly have for it, for the civilization that they destroyed?

The silently pulsing metal sphere offered no answers.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

She had turned down all offers of companionship, choosing to pilot the shuttle down herself. Admiral Hackett had finally – FINALLY – noticed that she wasn't dead anymore, and tossed her a bone: the crash site of the Normandy. Her heart had clenched when she read the message, but she knew she had to do it, and alone. It was 18 may 2185

The planet was cold. Frozen crystals climbed up the sides of the Normandy, but everything was preserved perfectly. It was a blessing – no digging through half-rusted piles of scrap for the dog-tags she was recovering – and a curse. She stopped to place a hand on the burnt out console of the galaxy map, remembering Pressly – his strong opinions, about everything; his gruff poker face, the calm competence that filled the CIC – radiating out from him. She collected his pad and tags, closed his eyes, and moved on.

/ - / -

She grunted quietly, throwing aside a shattered fragment of hull armor. It was warped and buckled, half its mass boiled away by the Collector attack – but it still weighed at least a few hundred pounds, more than she'd be able to lift without her implants and cybernetic parts. As she consciously thought of them, she felt their ache; the cold was seeping into her suit. She clicked the chinplate of her helmet twice and heard the heating fans spin up.

/ - / -

Carefully, Shepard closed the eyes of crewman Lowe. She took his tags, and tried not to see how little of his body remained. Cold – she had to be cold. Turning to move on, she saw the flight deck, sticking up out of the ground – an escape pod, upright and unfired, nearby. She loped over, trying to ignore the flashbacks, ignore the memory of launching the bridge escape pod, forget getting spaced. She stopped near the pod and stared; broke into near hysterical laughter.

When she got herself under control, she reached down and scooped up her old helmet – planted a beacon for the monument, and went back home.

/ - / - / - / -

The door hissed open, then closed. She didn't look up – she was turning the battered old helmet over and over in her hands, memorizing the scrapes and scars along its shell. The air supply to the rear was torn out and the foam inside had degenerated into dust as soon as she pressurized the Kodiak, but the readouts and displays inside were still intact. Well, mostly. There was some thawed blood spattered on the inside of the visor. Hers. She caught sight of Tali's warped reflection in the glass of the visor. She looked up, seeing her own reflection in Tali's helmet. She felt terrible, hollow. Still cold, somehow.

"Do you want some company, _Eleh?_"

Shepard shook her head.

"… oh. Okay, I understand. I'll see you later."

She was almost to the door before Shepard lifted her head. "Tali, wait .."

She stopped, looking over her shoulder.

"Please stay."

"Are you sure?"

A pause "Yes. I'm sure."

Tali stopped at the stairs, removing her visor and hood before stripping off her gloves. She walked down and sat next to Shepard on the sofa; they sat silently for a few minutes before Shepard leaned forward and placed the helmet next to the glowing Prothean relic. When she leaned back, she carefully took Tali's hand, as though a stronger contact would break one of them. She rubbed her thumb lightly over Tali's knuckles, saying nothing.

At length, Tali took a shallow breath. "Shepard, I know that the loss of the Normandy must feel so very fresh to you. I – I can't even imagine how you must be feeling."

"No – you probably can't. But you don't need to. It's enough, truly, for you to be here."

A silence. "I worry about you. Whenever you get your armor on, I worry. I'm afraid that I'll never see you again, or that I will but you'll be in a million pieces, like Tuchanka but worse. I don't actually know which would be harder."

Shepard squeezed her hand, said nothing. They sat in silence for a long time before she spoke.

"I grew up on one of the colonies – a planet called Mindoir, in the Traverse. It was a farming colony – Earth is completely overdeveloped, and a lot of the early expansion colonies were founded to either grow food or harvest natural resources to send back home. Mindoir was … beautiful. We had a couple of acres of fruit trees – a kind of genetically modified Mango that would grow well. I'm sure the Protheans lived there at some point, but we never knew about it. I was the stereotypical farm girl until the slavers came."

She took a breath, hurried on. "I was 16, and I'd heard the stories. When I saw the gunships touching down, I ran for home. I found it already occupied. A couple of Batarians chased after me, but I knew those fields and woods better than anyone else at the colony. I lost them, and hid there on the edges of the settlement. I'd come to the edge of town every couple of days, watch the slavers torturing people. I kept thinking that the Marines would come, any day now, the marines would come and rescue me. They didn't drive the slavers off for two and a half weeks; to this day, I can't stand the taste of mango."

She looked over at Tali, their eyes each searching each other's faces.

"I learned the hard way that no one is ever going to come for me. No gunships will ever ride in to my rescue, because I am always completely on my own. When the marines had pacified the colony again, I enlisted on the spot."

Tali was still, an aghast look on her face. "Shepard, I … Ancestors, I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything. I had a rough moment in my life but I grew up a lot, fast, and learned my lesson." Shepard squeezed Tali's hand, unsmiling. "Opening myself up to you – making the decision that I wanted to be with you – was and is hard for me. Not because of you – but because I learned my lesson too well. I'm not used to relying on people, not really. Squad mates, ship's compliment, that's one thing – but this? What we have? I'm a little out of my depth, and sometimes I forget that I have you to lean on."

Tali lifted her free hand to Shepard's face, caressed her cheek, leaned in to steal a kiss.

"You have me, Shepard – for as long as you'll have me."

Shepard pulled away smiling, holding a finger to Tali's lips. "Shh. I know. But you have to promise me something. In spite of the crazy road that took us here, you and I are in the same situation that every soldier has faced throughout history. Death is my job, Tali. If I'm good at it, death happens to other people – and most of the time, I'm very good at it. If I screw up, or if the other guy is just plain better, death happens to me." She gestured to the helmet. "Hell, it's already happened once. I need you to know that, to accept it."

Tali looked almost … affronted. "I don't know that I can accept your death so easily."

"You won't, when it happens. But until it does, you can't be worrying about me on every mission – your worry will drive you crazy, and knowing that you're worried about me will mess me up." Shepard closed her eyes, took a slow breath. "I said this before the Collectors, but the mission always comes first – even before me." She opened her eyes, searching Tali's face, hoping for understanding. "I love you. I want your body, I crave the touch of your lips and your skin, but even after the sex I still love you. I want to come home to you, too – but I do whatever I have to do. Always have, always will. I … I need you to understand."

Tali bit her lip, eyes downcast. "I … don't think I can promise that, Shepard – I want you too much. But I want to try. I _will_ try, for you." Her eyes lifted, met Shepard's. They leaned in and touched foreheads, brushing noses.

"Okay, Tali. I know you will."

There was a long, comfortable silence as they took in the details of the helmet, heads leaning together.

"A Mango … is a type of fruit, right?"

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

Afterlife was pounding. As she jogged up the stairs toward Aria's perch, Shepard thought it reminded her of a heart; beating in and out, pumping the lifeblood of Omega – the people – in and out. Aria's guard must have been new – he pushed off the wall and reached for his gun.

Aria looked down as the unconscious Turian bounced off the floor at her feet, cocked an unimpressed eyebrow at Shepard. "What'd I tell you about reining in your muscle, Aria? This one tried to touch me, and look where that got him."

"Shepard – if I'd cared what happened to this idiot, I wouldn't have put him on staircase duty. What do you want here?"

Shepard dropped onto the seat next to the dark-eyed Asari with a predatory grin. "I'm here for you, Aria. How are things coming here?"

"What, you mean preparing for the semi-mythical life-destroying synthetic army that you claim is on its way?"

Shepard's face hardened. "Aria …"

"Don't worry, Shepard – I might not have believed this story of yours a year ago, but I believe now. Isn't that enough?"

"No. I need to know that you're taking this seriously, and that you're actually doing what you said you'd do – get me an army."

Aria sat forward, planting her elbows on her knees and leaning into her arms. "Look – I can hire any number of idiots, but they'd need to be paid. I can buy them weapons, equipment, even ships – but that all costs money, they'd need to be trained, and it'd be a threatening enough action to get the Council fleet sent out here immediately."

Shepard leaned back, nodding slowly. "I see the problem."

"I'm not sure you do. You see, even if the Council wasn't an issue, Omega has its own … delicate ecosystem, a careful balancing act of power and control. I rule Omega because I'm the best at playing this game, but I'm not the only player. If I commit myself to building up an army, I'd expose not only your plans, but my weaknesses. I won't do anything that risks my control here."

Shepard frowned. "Then what's your plan?"

"The same as always – I'm going to look out for my own interests, visibly. No one will question my motives or connect anything I'm doing to anything about you if what I'm doing is permanently consolidating my hold over this station, this system – Omega is the political center of the Terminus; if I rule this station, I rule the Terminus. Completely."

"And how does that help me?"

"I'll own this station – and by extension, the entire fractured Terminus. Then, when the Reapers come, I'll turn over my mercenaries, my hoarded resources, my pirate fleets. The entire military might of the Council isn't enough to risk a fight with us – when I hand my resources over, you'll double whatever your fighting power is."

Shepard nodded slowly. "Okay, I see where you're going. But you'll forgive me if I don't have an especially high opinion of the fighting power of mercs and pirates."

"Can you really afford to be picky? Besides, I'm letting the mercs fight among themselves, for now – competition will keep them sharp enough."

Shepard sighed, scrubbed a hand through her long-ish hair. "Not nearly good enough, Aria. These people need training – the grunts need an expert to show them how to fight, and the pirates need precision flying drills."

Arias brow furled. "Who did you have in mind?"

/ - / - / - / -

Shepard paced her office, waiting. She'd sent the message, and should have heard back sooner.

"EDI – time."

"The time is 15:12:16, 22 May 2185. It has been 18 seconds since your last query."

"Resend message."

"Message sent, Commander."

The console chirped, and Shepard whirled around, slapping at her terminal. "Yes!"

Zaeed's leathery face filled her screen. "Shepard – I got your message, but damned if I can figure out what you're up to."

The tension left Shepard all at once, and she found herself grinning at the old killer. "Zaeed. I have a job for you."

Zaeed sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Didn't I say that I was retiring? I'm pretty sure I said that when I left."

"You said a lot of things, including that you could drink Ryncol with Grunt. I'm choosing to treat your retirement in the same vein."

He grunted. "Heh. Well then, if you've got a job then you must have some kind of payment. And since I have a great fucking pile of credits, you must think you have something worth more to me than my free time. So quit arseing around and lay your cards on the table."

Shepard smiled, slowly; reached out of view, and came back with an old-model rifle. She watched as Zaeed lost the display of confidence and leaned forward, interested. "Jessie …" he breathed.

"Not quite. Admiral Hackett sent me the location of the first Normandy's resting place. While I was on the ground, I found the armory. Sealed tight for two years on a frozen waste, Zaeed – 4 M-7 rifles in perfect working order."

"Okay, Shepard – you want something big. I get that. Now fess up."

She nodded, once. "You're going to hate this, old man."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

Shepard was in Zaeed's old quarters, diligently working over a dull red heavy-bag, when EDI's chime interrupted.

"Commander Shepard – you have an urgent, real-time message from Admiral Anderson. It is coded top secret."

She shook out her bare hands, caught her breath. "Okay – I'm on my way to my cabin."

Anderson was already waiting on her wall when she walked into her office. "Shepard – damn, it's good to see you."

"Anderson – you're looking a little worn around the edges. Any word on my reinstatement?"

Anderson shrugged, frowning slightly. "Nothing yet. Udina's been talking to the brass at Arcturus station, but I don't know what about. Anyway, that's not why I called."

"Of course. What can I do for you that nobody else can?"

"You can bring me Jack Zero."

Shepard whistled. "Well, at least you're not handing me some planet-scanning mission. Even if I knew where she was, why would I hand her over to the Alliance – the same alliance that I still don't officially work for?"

"What do you know about Grissom Academy?"

"Home of the Ascension Project, right? Training biotic kids."

"Exactly. Well, I got your message and I managed to at least that _that_ approved. Jack Zero has been offered Alliance amnesty for her past, and a position as an instructor at Grissom."

Shepard let her surprise show on her face. "Well, that's big news. I told her to expect a message from you – why aren't you contacting her yourself?"

"I figured if it came from me, it'd be easy to ignore. From you, she'll have a harder time turning the offer down. Shepard, you and I both know the Reapers are coming. We need Jack to teach these kids, because no one else has been through what Jack has, or done the things she's done with her biotics. We need to push these kids, and hard – and Jack is the perfect instructor for that."

"Well … I'm not sure I'm sold, but I'll at least go talk to her. Do you have any leads?"

"None, at all. I'm leaving this entirely in your capable hands. Anderson out."

Shepard dropped into her chair with a groan. The entire galaxy, and she was supposed to find one woman? Where to even start? She sat up, suddenly laughing.

"EDI – tell Joker to set course for Illium."

/ - / -

"Miranda, I need a favor – fast."

She looked up at Shepard, lounging her doorway, and nodded. "Something from Cerberus?"

"And from you." She entered the room, took a seat. "When you got my body, you got it from Dr. T'Soni."

"Yes, we did. What's this about?"

"Did you know that she had to steal it from the Shadow Broker?"

"I … had heard rumors, yes."

"I need to know who the Shadow Broker is – or at least, how to find him."

Miranda frowned sharply. "If I go digging for this information, it'll trip every alarm in Cerberus' systems. I'll lose my backdoors."

"I know, but we're going to go see Dr. T'Soni right now. She may be able to track Jack down, if she doesn't know off-hand. In exchange, and because I feel like I might owe her something, I want to have something to give her."

"Alright, Shepard – give me a couple of days. If I'm going to have anything, I'll have it by then."

"Deal. You've got till the 30th to get me something we can use."

/ - / - / - / -

Shepard stood next to Liara, each turning in a slow circle, taking in all the details of the operation center. The old Shadow Broker was dead; long live the new Shadow Broker. Liara looked more than a little stunned.

"This … is big. Very very big. Are you sure you can handle this, Liara?"

"In a way, I think that I'm the only one who can. I've been an information broker for two years now, on Illium – this is just the next step in that career. Think of it, Shepard – all the resources and information of the Shadow Broker, at your fingertips!"

"Well, at yours anyway."

Liara made a dismissive sound. "Oh, as if there was a difference. You should know by now that I'm fully committed to you, and your cause."

Shepard smiled. "Yeah – honestly, Liara, this has been a lot of fun. I've missed you, in spite of myself."

"Well, thanks for the stirring endorsement!" Liara huffed. "In that case, I _won't_ share with you, and let's see how you like that!" the two women grinned at each other.

"Okay, truce. The Normandy isn't going anywhere for a while – why don't you get yourself situated down here, then come up for dinner?"

Liara looked up, searching. "Shepard – I don't know if that's such a good idea. There's a lot of information here, and I'll need to get very familiar with all of this very quickly or the Shadow Br… my field agents might get suspicious."

Shepard smiled. "That's all very reasonable Liara, but you can leave some of your operation to Feron and the VI, right? I'm just asking you up to dinner. Besides, _your_ _agents_ aren't going to start reporting in until tomorrow morning at the earliest. Come up to the Normandy – Garrus, Tali, Chakwas, and Joker are all still with me, you know."

Liara nodded. "Yes, I know – I've watched your activities carefully since your return. I was … very glad to hear that you had shed your ties to Cerberus."

"So … ?"

"Oh, fine! You can be so persistent when you want something!" Liara was smiling a she said it. "You go on up and tell the crew I'm coming. I'll be up to the Normandy soon."

/ - / -

When Liara stepped off the elevator, she knew something was different. All the corridor lights were off, and only a dim glow came from the main floor of deck 3. She turned the corner and stopped, a surprised sound escaping from behind the hand that covered her mouth.

The mess table had been … transformed. There was a deep red tablecloth covering it, and each of the chairs had a full place setting in front of it. The lights around the deck had been dimmed, but she could still make out the grinning faces of her old friends.

"Welcome back, Liara – we've arranged as fancy a dinner as we could, to celebrate your new job." Shepard stood near the head of the table, resting on her chair. The tailored black trousers were tucked neatly into her boots, bloused to military specification – but the boots had a 3" heel. Her jacket was Alliance Regulation Class-A uniform, but without any insignia – and powerful in black and dark gray, fitted close to her body. With hair just long enough to brush the bottom of her earlobes, she was surprisingly feminine, yet still every inch the Commander.

"Yes, I see that. Thank you, all of you." Liara went around the table, giving each a hug and word of friendship. Garrus, who'd helped rescue her; Joker, who never let her get too self-conscious. Dr. Chakwas, and Tali'Zorah – Liara watched her carefully; there was something very different about her these days, and Liara was sure she knew what it was.

"Shepard – you really shouldn't have done this. But I see 5 more places – who are we missing?"

"That depends - are you ready to meet the rest of the crew?"

/ - / -

"That's not how it happened!" Liara's voice had a girlish quality to it when she was angry. The meal had been decent enough – they'd taken on fresh food-stuffs on Illium – but the wine had been excellent. Empty bottles littered the table as the crew swapped stories about the good old days.

"Ha! Jacob, don't listen to her protests – when we found her, she was spread eagle in some kind of Prothean anti-snoop trap, asking – oh so nicely – if we'd blast her out." Shepard gestured with her arms; her cheeks were flushed from alcohol and laughter.

"Oh, and I suppose you thought the best option was the blow up the whole mountain?"

"Actually, that was my idea." Garrus' deep voice cut across the table, setting off another wave of giggles – and earning a loud fist-smack of approval from Grunt.

/ - / -

When the door to Shepard's quarters hissed open, Liara stopped and stared in spite of herself. It was surprisingly lavish, especially considering the condition of Shepard's last cabin.

"This is … quite a living space."

"You like it? Cerberus says they had some space left over after scaling up the original Normandy design, but I still think this was intentional." Shepard was stepping out of her boots, her jacket halfway undone.

"Knowing Cerberus, probably – they did put leather chairs on the flight deck, after all."

Shepard poured out their nightcap – two medium glasses of dark amber liquid – and dropped onto the sofa.

"Well – when I first got the cabin, I hated it. A slap in the face to an Alliance officer." She shrugged a shoulder. "Now? Now it's home."

Liara sat, sweeping her skirt out. She took her glass and sniffed it. "I thought that as the commanding officer, the whole ship was your home?" She tipped the glass back and tasted it; smoke and old vanilla filled her mouth.

Shepard grinned, watching the Asari. "Like it? Zaeed left me a bottle of genuine earth whiskey before he left. Said it was for a special occasion; well, I can't think of anything more special than the crew reunion." She was silent a moment, then gestured around the cabin. "As for the ship – it's too big! This ship is twice the size of the old Normandy – too much space, too many untrusted faces, too much Cerberus! First thing I did was paint over their logos in here."

Liara sipped the whiskey delicately. "So you have an apartment away from the crew?"

"Needed to be apart, at least some time. It's been … nice." Shepard nodded.

Liara set her glass down, smiling softly. "Shepard, my old friend, don't think you need to hide anything from me. I'm a very good broker, and I know about you and Tali. I'm very happy for you."

A blush crept across Shepard's face as she took another sip. "I should have known."

With a wide smile, Liara reached out and took one of Shepard's hands. "Yes, you should have. You also should have known that I would have only happiness for you two."

She let out a slow breath. "Thanks. It's been … an interesting ride."

"Well, it's about time the two of you figured it out you know – you weren't as subtle as you think, even back on the Citadel, and you two were shameless over dinner."

"Ha! And here I thought I was being good. The whole rest of the crew knows, of course – hard to keep even a little secret on a ship – but they've been supportive, approving of it. I didn't expect that, to be honest."

Liara stood, walked over to the fish tank. "You've taken the entire Galaxy as your personal burden, Shepard – don't think we don't all know. You deserve every pleasure you can take, because we both know what's coming." She turned then, and smiled. "Now, stop being silly and tell Tali to come up here for a nightcap."

Shepard grinned, shrugged. "Didn't want to make you uncomfortable." She strode to the terminal, tapping out a quick message while Liara refilled their glasses.

/ - / -

Tali giggled drunkenly, waving her arms over her head as she lay back on the bed. Shepard sat next to her, grinning, fumbling with the seals on her boots; she was already down to her undershirt and boyshorts, but Tali was stubbornly dressed.

The three of them had stayed up another two hours, drinking steadily – Tali had a small bottle of Turian brandy stashed under Shepard's desk – and talking. First about the mission, then the old days; then, and Shepard was still unclear about how, about their relationship. Liara had been fascinated, but oddly shy about some things – Tali was just drunk enough to bring up details of their sex life, but Liara was much more interested in how they were handling each other.

Shepard quirked a smile, finally getting the boot off. "Ha … handling each other. Very well, thank you."

Tali lifted up onto her elbows, watching her lover work. Her visor and hood were already resting on the nightstand, her eyes shone a luminescent white. She slid forward, standing unevenly until she expertly unfastened her boot and stepped out of it. Turning, she pushed Shepard back onto the bed.

"I want you to watch, _Eleh_ – I want you to drink me in."

Shepard leaned back against the headboard as Tali started to dance. It was all staccato movement – a quick shift here, a slow grind there – and it was intensely erotic. Tali's eyes were locked to her own, but her hands – her Quarian lover was stripping for her, making every movement an act of seduction. Each suit seal, every carefully arched limb; Tali oh-so-slowly pulled her suit off her shoulders, exposing each delicate structure in turn, sliding her suit back and off, slipping down her arms. She crossed her arms over her small chest, trapping the suit, caressing herself through the slick fabric – she made small pleasure sounds, watching Shepard. She lowered the suit, turned to her side to pull it completely off; she arched her back deeply, holding her legs straight and sticking her ass out in invitation. When she turned back to the bed, she was nude; gasped, as she saw Shepard's hands moving on her own body.

Tali took a step closer, kneeling on the bed. They faced each other, not touching – Shepard's fingers under her shirt, kneading her breasts, teasing her nipples. Tali mirrored her – enfolding the sensitive swells of her chest, hissing in pleasure as she pulled her nipples. Pinching tighter, pulling harder – she cried out, trying to keep her eyes open, watching her lover tease herself in time with her own movements. Shepard's hand slid lower, under the edge of her shorts, curled her legs up and slipped her underwear off. She spread her legs slowly, eyes on Tali's face as she exposed herself – one finger, then two, teasing her wet flesh. Tali mirrored – spreading her legs wider, biting her lip as she toyed idly with her own sex. They were teasing each other – making love with their eyes, building pleasure with their hands. Shepard panted quietly, rocking onto her fingers, strumming her clit with her thumb; Tali's eyes were glued to her lover's glistening skin, mewling as her own fingers struck deep, curled and swirled inside.

It was Shepard who changed the rules – sat up toward Tali, propping herself on one hand and bringing her other to Tali's lips. Tali closed her eyes and opened her mouth, sighing in pleasure; Shepard smeared her nectar on Tali's lips. She dragged her nails over the midnight-pale skin, cupping Tali's breast tracing her fingers in semirandom patterns on the sensitive flesh. She heard Tali's breathing hitch, felt her fingers speed up; slipped her fingers to the nipple, rhythmically pinching and twisting. Tali screamed in pleasure, in pain, shuddering to a stop above Shepard and keening low in her throat; she fell forward onto Shepard, pushing her back with a sudden urgency. Tali's lips found her nipples, and she was biting and kissing, tonguing and scraping with her teeth. Her aureoles crinkled tight, and Tali's long tongue bathed every crease and fold.

Shepard sighed in pleasure, lifting her chest high. She loved how Tali worshipped her breasts, loved how she knew when to be delicate and when to be rougher. She slipped her fingers down again, finding her sex soaked with need; she caressed each sensitive fold, sucking in breath, feeling Tali's hips rocking against her hand – as though she were fucking Shepard. The thought was maddening, intense – her breath was hitching, fingers moving fast and light, stroking herself to a shuddering, clenching climax. She bucked against Tali, moving her hand out of the way to grind against her lover's skin, shivering in aftershocks. Shepard collapsed to the bed with Tali still on top of her. They lay still, the room spinning from alcohol and exertion, trying to recover their breathing. Slowly, Shepard slithered out from under Tali; encouraged her to roll over onto her stomach, then curled up behind her. She slipped her hand along Tali's ribs, gripping her hips and pulling her close; she heard the quiet pleasure sound, and wrapped her in a tight embrace. She nuzzled into the nape of Tali's neck, kissing gently – teasing, light – then biting into the muscle, tighter, sucking and flicking her tongue over the trapped skin. Tali rocked her hips back into Shepard's, crying out again in pleasure, shuddering as Shepard bit her harder, sucked deeper – almost broke the skin before releasing her and kissing – so light, so soft – over the now-violet skin. She moved her lips to Tali's ear and whispered. "You're mine, Tali – don't ever doubt or forget that."

A pause in her breathing. "Yes, … ma'am."

The bedside clock read 31 May 2185

/ - / - / - / -

The bright glare from Hagalaaz's lighting-flashes seemed to stab Shepard in the eyes. It set off a pounding in her skull, and not for the first time she wished she had a way to turn down the gain on her eyes. She held her head in one hand, making her way down the corridor toward the Shadow Broker's command center. She was almost there when a glowing VI drone appeared from around the corner.

"Good morning, Shadow Broker!"

Shepard winced, and held her hand out. "Liara, call off your drone – it might just kill me."

Liara's musical voice came from the next room. "Info Drone – go to your docking cradle and stand by for further orders. Turn off sound output."

"Yes, Shadow Broker!" it chirped again, before humming away.

Shepard dragged into the central area. Liara greeted her, looking her over with almost-motherly disapproval. "You look like hell, Shepard."

She got a grin for her trouble. "Well, after you left, Tali and I …"

Liara pinched her eyes shut, holding up her hands. "I'm sorry I ever asked about you two."

They made their way to the console. "Thanks for inviting me to dinner last night, Shepard – it was a wonderful chance to see the crew again. It was … nice."

"I take it that you're not going to come with us? We could really use your help."

"That's just it – from here, I can help you more as the Shadow Broker than I ever could as Doctor T'Soni. For now, at least, I must stay here."

Shepard sighed, nodded. "Okay – I had to ask."

"I understand – and I'm glad you did, even if I can't say yes." Liara smiled. "Now, what can I do for you as the Broker?"

She leaned back, smiling again. "Okay, Broker – I need to find Jack Zero."

Wordlessly, Liara handed her a datapad.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

Shepard stepped off the shuttle, looking around with a frown. The Hera Mining Facility was an extremely old-style deep space outpost, originally built by the thousands for the Turian war machine. They could be deployed to particularly interesting regions of space and left alone there with a garrison or a strike wing, and picked up when everything was over. Since the First Contact War, a lot of them had ended up in the hands of the Alliance, and were quickly sold to various interests; they were a common sight among mineral-rich asteroid fields. This one looked a little more beat up than they normally did.

She found the bar easily enough, a dingy hole-in-the-wall that stank of sweat and cheap beer. She looked the place over before stepping closer, but saw nothing to indicate that it was anything other than it appeared. Her eyes caught on Jack, behind the bar and cleaning out glasses.

"Hey barkeep – what's good?"

Jack didn't even look up from her polishing. "Shepard – figured you'd find me sooner or later."

"And here I am! So seriously, what's good?"

"Nothing – the booze is as shitty as the location." Finally, Jack dropped the towel and turned to face her. "What do you want?"

Shepard leaned back, her lips turning down. "You, Jack. I told you to watch your email, but you must have missed the big news. I found you a job."

Jack spread her hands, grinning. "I have a job, Shepard – won this place in a card game, oldest story in space. I'm not thrilled with the location, but I'm on my own terms now." She dropped her arms and glared across the bar. "I'm not really keen on giving up my independence, not even for you."

"I get that, and I'm not asking you to. Hell, appoint a manager and collect the weekly checks – I don't give a damn what you do with this place. But Anderson got in touch with me, and he says that the Alliance wants to offer you a job."

"Me? Work for the Alliance?" Jack blinked.

"It's no crazier than working for Cerberus, but you did that for me."

"Yeah, Shepard – for you. Because you broke me out, pointed me at a target and said 'kill'. I loved working with you, but you're not the Alliance. What do they even want me for? You said it yourself, I'm a killer."

Shepard grinned wide. "You're going to be a teacher."

Jack stopped, stared. "No. You're joking, because you didn't just say that I'm supposed to be a teacher. Not going to happen."

"Hold on, think about it! You're one of the most powerful biotics in Council space, and you know what it's like to grow up with that. You know as well as I do that the Reapers are coming, sooner or later. We need people who've seen combat to train the next generation. I've seen you do incredible things with Mass Effect fields – time to pass on your knowledge."

Jack sat, arms folded across her chest. "I'm … thinking about it."

"Good, but don't think too long." She slid a datapad across the bar. "If you decided to do this, report to Grissom Academy, in orbit around Elysium colony."

"Shepard – you really think this is important?"

She nodded instantly. "Yes. I know that if anyone can whip the kids in the Ascension Program into the kind of deadly biotic warriors that we need, it's you."

Jack looked around her bar, hands fidgeting at her sides; Shepard strolled out the door without a backward glance. It was 2 June 2185.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

"After time adrift among open stars, along tides of light and through shoals of dust, I will return to where I began." Shepard stood over Joker's station, speaking to the Quarian traffic controller.

"C-Commander Shepard?"

She grinned to Joker "Who else did you think would be coming in the Normandy?"

"N-No one! Alright, you have been cleared to approach the fleet. A patrol ship will escort you in."

"Roger, Fleet Control – Normandy out."

Joker looked surprised. "So, I guess you're an honorary Quarian, now?"

She grinned and shrugged. "You know how it is in relationships – some of you rubs off on them, some of them rubs off on you…"

"… literally …"

She gave him an affectionate – and gentle – punch in the arm.

/ - / - / - / -

Tali paced nervously, wringing her hands with every step; Shepard leaned against the bulkhead with her eyes closed. They were in the waiting room of Admiral Zaal'Koris, aboard the mighty Qwib-Qwib, cooling their heels. Shepard waited patiently – a career in military service had accustomed her to such delays; Tali had tried sitting still, but was obviously too nervous.

When the door slid open, the admiral was flanked by marines. He stomped in and dropped into a chair, gesturing to Shepard and Tali to be seated. Tali sat on the edge of her chair, still fidgeting; Shepard pointedly stood, crossing arms over her chestplate.

"Admiral, I requested a private meeting, and you agreed. You can tell your soldiers to go wait outside."

"Commander Shepard, this _is_ a private meeting. My men are trustworthy, I assure you; whatever you have to say to me can be said in front of them."

She looked him up and down, then lifted the corner of her mouth in a sardonic smile. "Legion."

Koris stiffened, dismissed his guards with an angry gesture. When the door clanged shut behind them, he jumped out of his seat shaking with fury.

"Are you completely mad?! Do you have any idea how delicate my position is here?"

"I know that I asked for a private meeting for a reason, Admiral – now that it's just us, we can get down to business."

Koris paced, every line of his body radiating his displeasure. "Very well, Commander – what is it that you want of me?"

"I want you to negotiate a lasting peace with the Geth."

"Ha! I've been trying to get the Admiralty Board to agree to that for _years_! I wish you the same luck I've had."

"You misunderstand – I'm not asking the Board, I'm asking you. You obviously remember the geth Legion, on my crew; it has obtained the provisional consensus of the Geth Collective to open negotiations with the Fleet."

Koris stopped dead, turning slowly to face her. "You … you can't be serious."

"I can, and am. Look, I came to you because you've always advocated peace with the Geth. Legion agrees that the Geth can see the wisdom in coming to a peaceful accord, and wants to talk to you. I can arrange a neutral meeting on the Normandy."

Koris slid back into his chair, mulling it over. "If word of this gets out, there will be no recovery for us. The fleet isn't ready for peace; a lot of them still think war with the Geth is inevitable, destined even."

"Then you need to learn to be persuasive. You need to build a campaign of peace here, instead of just lobbying the Admiralty Board to make it happen by decree. Make the people want peace, and you'll be in a better position."

Koris nodded slowly. "Okay, Commander – after what you did with the Alarai, and your … spirited … defense of Tali'Zorah during her inquiry, I suppose I owe you something. I think I can get away from the ship for one visit, perhaps – if our face to … eh, 'light' … meeting goes well, we can continue over encrypted comm channels." He looked up, head tilted to the side.

Shepard let out the breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. "Good. Then as long as that's settled, there's one other thing I need from you."

Koris' suit speaker lit up as a long laugh rolled out of him. "Meeting with a Geth isn't enough for you?"

"Not yet. You see, while Legion is meeting with you – here, on Quarian turf – you're going to arrange for Tali to be sent on a recon mission near the Perseus Veil. There, she'll rendezvous with a Geth ship and open negotiations on their turf."

Koris swung his head from Shepard to Tali. "What … what is the point of this exercise?!"

Tali spoke, voice quavering "Legion has come here, to the center of the fleet, to meet with you in hostile conditions. It's … a goodwill gesture. I will go to the Geth fleet as a token of our trust in them."

"For what possible reason! They're Geth, not people!"

Shepard cleared her throat. "That's exactly what they are, Admiral – they're synthetic people, who need to be negotiated with instead of dictated to. You and Legion, Tali and the Consensus – these are the opening meetings. _When_ these go well …" she glared to emphasize her point "… you may continue negotiating with Legion in whatever capacity you can all agree on."

Koris threw up his hands, standing and pacing the length of his chamber. Shepard watched impassively; at length, he spun and pointed an accusing finger at Tali. "If the Geth turn on you, there's no way that you'll survive. This could be a one-way trip for you, you know."

Tali tipped her head to point to Shepard. "Then I suppose it's good that my Captain will be watching out for me."

/ - / - / - / -

Legion was already standing at one end of the increasingly multifunction mess table on deck 3 when Admiral Zaal'Koris came up the elevator. He twitched when he saw the Geth; recovered, and walked forward, stretching out a hand.

"I am Admiral Zaal'Koris vas Qwib-Qwib. I have come in peace, to open negotiations with the Geth."

Legion extended its hand, grasped the Admiral's forearm. "We are Legion. We speak for the Geth Consensus. We have come also in peace, and wish to form a cooperative future with the Creators."

Shepard gestured to both parties. "Admiral – Legion – I believe we have much to discuss."

/ - / - / - / -

The Normandy shuddered as the docking tube made contact with the Geth dropship. Shepard, in full kit and armor, stood just inside the airlock door as she punched the in the access code. She suppressed her reflexive grab for a pistol as the door opened, forcing herself to stand and step forward to the three Geth Primes in her airlock.

"I am Commander Shepard of the Normandy. I come in peace, to retrieve Tali'Zorah."

Silence. Then a voice, clicking mechanically – the center Prime. "Shepard-Commander. Legion has spoken to us of you. You are known to us. We will not harm you. Come, Creator Tali'Zorah wishes to see you in the negotiating chamber."

Shepard followed as the lead Prime turned on its heel. Her every instinct screamed to run as the other two fell into flanking positions behind her. The interior of the Geth dropship was angular, dim, and somewhat cramped – yet it seemed inexplicably and inextricably 'Geth'. Two turns, three – and the Primes escorting her spread to the side.

Tali sat at a hastily manufactured table with two Geth platforms opposite. She stood when Shepard entered. "Commander Shepard, allow me to introduce you to the Geth negotiators. The red platform …" she pointed to a Hunter, constructed of bright red alloy "… is called Myriad, while the gray platform is called Platoon."

Shepard's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Myriad – Platoon. Thank you for your hospitality. Please forgive my surprise that you have given yourselves names."

Platoon appeared to be similar in construction to Legion, and its head-plates opened expressively. "Shepard-Commander, Legion has been in communication with the Consensus. We have learned that it is easier to communicate with organics on an individual level; while we are not capable of truly individual action, we can simulate this effect by the use of name-designations and distinct platforms. We have spoken with Creator Tali'Zorah – the Geth seek peace with the Creators."

Shepard grinned. "That may be the best news I've heard all day. It's my hope that the Consensus will continue negotiating with Admiral Zaal'Koris, of the fleet; I must take Tali with me on my own mission."

It was Myriad who nodded. "Yes – through Legion, we have learned much of organic life other than the Creators. We know that you and Creator Tali'Zorah are in a pair-bonded relationship. We do not wish to deprive you of your mate."

Tali's head hung, and Shepard's jaw hung in shock before she laughed; she was still snickering when she turned, Legion's footfalls heavy behind her. It looked to Myriad, its eye irising rapidly, the strange modulated clicking that Geth used emitting from its chest. Myriad responded, then turned to Shepard.

"Shepard-Commander, Legion informs us that it is not protocol to mention such pair-bondings in these circumstances. We …" it hesitated, eye flashing "… apologize."

Shepard held up her hands, still smiling. "No apology necessary. You are unused to organic beings as friends; these kinds of mistakes will be common – and forgivable." Turning, she clasped arms with Legion. "Legion, there will always be a place on the Normandy for you."

Legion flared its plates. "Thank you, Shepard-Commander. We are taking our leave to reach consensus with Geth, but we wish to return."

Shepard and Tali walked back to the airlock, escorted by a single Prime, their hands interlaced. It was 8 June 2185.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

Sur'kesh was a beautiful garden world, carpeted in thickly verdant vegetation. Mordin sat in silence, eyes closed, as the shuttle descended through the thick atmosphere. Shepard watched him – she was no expert, but he looked stressed.

They touched down on a shuttle pad near a cluster of low buildings with the angular construction of pre-fabs. Their shuttle depressurized, its hatch whirring open to their welcoming committee. 6 Salarians with rifles, 1 slightly nervous diplomat.

"Commander Shepard? I'm Selket Torm, STG liaison to the Council. Welcome to Sur'Kesh, please come this way."

They fell into step, moving briskly toward the building; Selket continued as they walked. "We were surprised to say the least when we heard about your visit here, Commander. Our operatives checked your Council Spectre status – twice – before issuing clearance to land. We had heard that you were working with Cerberus."

Shepard sighed. "I used Cerberus' resources to further my own ends, Selket, but I have always been a Spectre. Once I was done with my mission, I severed all connection to Cerberus. The Illusive Man has been hunting me ever since; I just wish the rest of the galaxy would get the damn memo."

Selket held his hands out placatingly. "Not to worry, Commander, we believe you. Spectres are well known for their unorthodox methodologies, and STG is no stranger to the need for covert operations. Of all the galaxy, we Salarians will probably understand this situation better than most."

Mordin nodded along. "True. Wouldn't have joined crew if I thought you were pro-human Cerberus type. Knew you were different right away, was happy to have theory confirmed time and again."

"Thanks. So Selket, you know why I'm here?"

The younger Salarian nodded. "Yes – your name has rippled through a lot of ponds around here, Commander. I've arranged a high-level meeting between you and Dr. Solus with General Murdo." He gestured into the open elevator that was waiting for them. "General Murdo is the intelligence director for STG."

Nodding, Shepard stepped into the elevator.

/ - / - / - / -

It was 16 June 2185. She'd been in meeting after meeting, talk after talk; Shepard had met with Generals and Admirals, STG Special Operatives and quiet men who didn't introduce themselves. She'd talked herself nearly hoarse about the threat posed by the reapers – Mordin had walked them through his research into the Collectors, their Prothean origins, the seekers, the Human-Reaper and more. He'd gone into a room full of skeptics and come out 4 hours later with a trail of eager acolytes; each and every one of them converted by the data. Why couldn't she have the same luck with the leadership?

"Commander Shepard, they're ready for you." Selket led the way to a small conference room with no windows; inside were some of the people she'd met with individually, some new faces. Mordin, standing next to the presentation terminal. She walked up and nodded, leaning against the wall next to him.

"Commander, thank you for coming." It was General Murdo – by far the highest ranking person in the room that she knew of, and one of the few who had believed. Shepard's heart rose – there might have been a shred of hope after all.

"We've all heard your reports – the word of a Spectre is good enough, but you've also had your statements backed up by one of our most respected field operatives. I know that there is plenty of disagreement …" he turned to glare significantly across the table "… but I want you to know before you leave that your report has been received - and that the Salarian fleets will be ready when the time comes. I'll see to it personally if I have to."

With a sigh of relief, she threw her head back. "Finally."

Murdo grinned. "Yes – I sympathize. Obviously, we can't commit our support publicly; we can't do anything without the approval of the planetary government, and they're much too concerned with Council affairs to get involved in this until it's too late." He shook his head sadly, eyes closing for a moment. "We'll have to let the Reapers come before we can act officially." His eyes opened, fixed Shepard with a steady gaze.

"That's the bad news. The good news is that most of our fleet is up for 'renovation and reconditioning' in the next 16 months – we'll be upgrading them to Thanix cannons, cyclonic barrier technology, and every one of Dr. Solus' innovations that we can cram in. Nobody in the galaxy will be any wiser – we're constantly upgrading our ships, so this won't cause much alarm."

"General, I'm very glad to hear that." Shepard pushed away from the wall, smiling openly. "In that case, I consider my mission here a success."

"Just one thing, Commander, and then we'll let you go. Dr. Solus?"

She turned, as Mordin cleared his throat. "Shepard, I have accepted reinstatement into STG – am now oldest living member."

Laughing, she clasped his hand. "Congratulations, old man. I'm glad to hear it."

"Yes – Dr. Solus will be heading up our preparations – in addition to the valuable front-line experience he has had with them, he will also serve as our covert liaison to you, personally. Anything we send via the Council will be subject to public review; it won't arouse suspicion for one of your old crew to contact you privately." Murdo grinned, pleased with himself. "It's well known how deeply you care for your crewmates."

Shepard turned and winked at Mordin. "Well, a double agent. Double congrats, then."

"Er, yes, in a way. Will always consider self 'crew of Normandy', but need to stay here to oversee preparations. After all …" Mordin clasped her arm, smiling. "… someone else might get it wrong."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

The message on her terminal was dated 25 June 2185, and it was from Legion. It was also entirely garbage. Smiling, she pressed the intercom button.

"Engineer Tali'Zorah, please report to deck 1."

Tali looked up at the comm panel, frowning. It was their own personal code, an experiment in keeping their professional and personal relationships from getting too intertwined. Shepard had insisted, saying that she needed to be able to maintain focus on the mission; Tali had opened her mouth to rebut, then nodded – the look in Shepard's eye brooked no argument.

Rolling her eyes at Ken's leering grin, she left engineering.

/ - / -

"Legion learned this code from my omni-tool, back before the Collector base. It's an outdated cipher that the Fleet hasn't used in a generation; he must have known it would only mean something to me."

Shepard watched, a smile tugging her lips, as Tali worked the terminal. "Well, what does it say?"

Tali was silent, still – Shepard leaned forward, and read over her shoulder; barely halfway through the message, she was swearing and yelling at Joker to divert immediately to Typhon System.

/ - / - / - / -

Shepard slammed Dr. Archer up against the console, pistol digging into his guts. "You insufferable shitsucker. Your own brother! You mutilated his mind for what, the chance to control the Geth? Did you ever think to talk to them?!"

To his credit, Dr. Archer answered calmly. "There was no way we could account for ever possibility! David understood the Geth, could speak to them! We needed him!"

"Well you don't need him anymore. I am shutting this program down, and David is coming with me."

"You can't do that, Shepard! If the Illusive Man doesn't already know you're here, he will soon – there will be Cerberus ships and troops by the dozen!"

Shepard grinned, dragging the barrel of the pistol down Archer's belly. She watched him wince as it tore his clothing, stopping it when it was pointed at his femoral artery. "Yes, but they're not here now – and by the time they do arrive, I'll be long gone." She headbutted him then, remembering her lessons from Wrex with a savage smile; Archer slumped over, eyes crossed.

"Miranda, take David; Tali, wipe these computers. I don't want any record of _anything_ here to survive."

Miranda took the barely conscious David over her shoulders, calling for Jacob to help her – Tali knelt next to a master terminal, omni-tool glowing. At least the Illusive Man wouldn't gain anything here. They were just about to leave when Dr. Archer croaked from the floor.

"David – where are you taking David?"

Shepard stopped, conspicuously checking her pistol. "Grissom Academy – where he'll be safe. Tell the Illusive Man anything you want, Archer - I don't care."

In the distance, flashes of light; the Normandy's phase disruptor torpedoes seeking the research stations and reducing them to ash.

/ - / - / - / -

"Shepard-Commander – you have destroyed the Cerberus research base?"

"Yes – I won't apologize for something I'm not responsible for, but I assure you that neither I nor the Quarians will condone something like this. The Geth are sentient beings, and this was torture and murder."

"Yes. Geth referred resolution of this matter to organics as an experiment; do organics value our lives as they do their own? You have answered this question."

Shepard nodded. "The Geth are people, Legion – I won't stand for anything less."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

Zakera Ward teemed with life, music and commerce competing to be heard in the streets. Pungent smells wafted out of every other door or window. It was like Omega, but cleaner – somehow more wholesome. The mitigating presence of the Council, possibly.

"Okay – everybody have their assignments?"

Nods all around – Miranda was going to rent an apartment on the Presidium, and work as one of Liara's operatives for a few days. The Council was entirely too stable, too comfortable; Miranda's plan – with Shepard's whole-hearted approval – was to destabilize the council in little, uncomfortable ways. At least, it would tie the Councilors resources up fighting each other; the last thing they needed were the Councilors looking in on their own governments. Sur'Kesh and Palaven were gearing for war – Earth too, via Anderson, but Udina was watching everything too closely. Since orchestrating the "Election" of the new council, he'd become even more powerful in the Alliance than the president.

Jacob and Garrus were going to work C-SEC over. Bailey was a tough son-of-a-bitch, but if they could convince him that the danger of the Reapers was real, they'd have a real ally on their side. He certainly wasn't going to cause them any trouble, but he wasn't firmly on their side either.

Thane and Grunt were more or less on vacation, but they had a shopping list a full meter long – in small print. Thane would be doing the buying, Grunt would be doing the glaring; without the steady stream of Cerberus funding, they needed to make sure their credits went as far as possible. Liara helped, now and then, but had her own operations to fund now.

Even Joker was off the ship, his canes in hand. "Uh, Commander, what are you going to be doing? I mean, you did kick me off the ship, and I've got a few ideas about why, but …"

"Joker, shut up!" Shepard laughed. "I want to do something special for Tali, so you're all going to be here on the Citadel for a couple days. If you don't have anything to do, consider yourselves on shore leave. Just try not to cause the kind of capital-T-Trouble you did in Omega."

There was an uncomfortable shuffling; Garrus and Grunt looked conspicuously innocent.

"Okay. I'll meet you all back here in two days. Don't be late, we leave again in 4."

/ - / - / - / -

"A what?"

"A date, Tali. It's a cultural tradition of my people. Typically, I'd come pick you up – make awkward small talk with your family, then take you out to do something fun. Dinner and a vid, or dancing."

"Oh." Shepard could hear the blush starting; they were in downtown Zakera, the river of people parting around them.

"Which is why you're going to go get fitted for a new environment suit. Something very pretty; I like you in lavender and silver, but black is always nice. Something …" she leaned in, tickling her fingers over Tali's belly, hidden from view. "… totally useless, very pretty, _very_ tight, and easy to get you out of."

"Shepard …" Tali's head was back, just a touch, her voice breathy even through the suit.

"And after you've got your new suit, meet me at the Lakeside Gardens restaurant, on the presidium. We'll have dinner, then catch the latest Blasto vid. And then, we're going dancing."

Tali nodded, wordless – Shepard's fingers were tapping on her omni-tool, running the most wicked nerve-stimulators; her other arm was around Tali's waist, holding her up – her legs twitched gently as Shepard maneuvered her to a nearby bench where they sat companionably.

"Any objection?"

"N-No! … oh, Ances …" Tali cleared her throat; Shepard shut down the nerve stim program. "None whatsoever."

/ - / - / - / -

Lakeside Gardens was an extremely exclusive restaurant. Staffed by willowy Asari in gauzy dresses, the waiting list for a reservation was 7 weeks. Shepard had considered muscling her way in, but had ultimately determined that the easiest way to get in was to place a reservation – which she'd done, albeit with some sweet talking, over a month ago. The water of the Presidium lake lapped against the glass walls of the booths, glittered in the ever-present sunlight reflected by the Widow Nebula.

Shepard was in the bar, nursing her whiskey when Tali came in. The sight of her was breathtaking. Her suit was jet black, and glossy; so tight that it looked painted on. She could see the individual muscles of Tali's legs and arms, could almost make out the hard points of her nipples. The cowl was fine, silky lavender with bright silver scrollwork, and there were slashes of lavender-and-silver on her arms, hips, thighs and down the back of her calves. The boots had 5" heels, and the effect was delicious – Tali's legs were straight, her long curved calves highlighted by the gleam of the thin suit fabric. Her shoulders were out, presenting her breasts like gifts to the Gods, and her hips rolled like the sea with each step. Shepard felt herself getting moist.

She swiped her credit chit, then went to meet Tali. The suit visor was almost a mirror – smoky silver, just showing the gleam of her eyes.

"Good evening, miss vas Normandy."

A low purr "Good evening, Commander Shepard. My, you look lovely this evening."

And she did. Shepard had visited the tailor too, and would have been unrecognizable by anyone but her crew. Her hair had been cut into a straight fashion-model's style that followed her jawline to her ears; she was wearing a pair of dangly, glistening earrings – narrow chains of platinum, with synthetic diamonds in the links. Tali's eyes swept down: a jacket that barely reached her midriff, with sleeves rolled up above her elbow; a bodice that hugged Shepard's figure tight, lifting her breasts to the opening of the jacket. Her black fitted slacks, skintight to her hips and ass and straight legged to her ankle, drew the eye down to her feet; instead of her usual boots, she wore a pair of strappy, impractical 4" heels.

"Well, this is a very special evening – I had to look my best."

The waitress, gliding on her impossibly long legs, led them to a booth in the back of the restaurant where the lights were dim and the tables were far apart; her smile was perfect, suggestive and mysterious, as she gestured to their table. When she departed with their orders, Tali reached up to her visor.

"Tali? What are you … oh, wonderful!" Shepard laughed; the mirrored visor had faded away to clear, perfect transparency. There were no jaw-plates, no segmented neck – just her lover's face, smiling nervously.

Shepard took one of her hands in both of hers, placing a slow kiss on her knuckles. "Perfect"

/ - / - / - / -

They strolled up the gangplank onto the Normandy, glued at the hip. The restaurant had been perfect. A dextro- and levo- food menu, full bar, and staff who barely spoke had lent an atmosphere of normalcy, as though Humans and Quarians fell in love every day.

"mmm, Shepard, I'm ready to go to bed." Tali grinned through her visor, teasing her fingers over the flesh of Shepard's breasts.

"Not yet."

They entered the Normandy, found it empty and dark – except for the bridge-station displays, each of which was showing a simulated candle, flickering their light across the deck.

Tali whirled, eyes bright. "Shepard, it's …"

"Shh." She interrupted. "Follow the candles, and I'll be with you soon." She slapped Tali's ass – hard – through the suit; the Quarian giggled as she strutted down the bridge neck.

"EDI?" Shepard whispered.

Her holoprojection pad blinked, but didn't illuminate. "Yes, Commander Shepard."

"Take us out, quick as you can."

"Acknowledged."

Shepard waited until Tali had disappeared down the elevator before opening the repel-boarders locker by the airlock. She took the carefully wrapped presents she'd stashed before their date, and made her way to the elevator.

When she came out, she was in the hangar bay – but the hangar was empty. No Kodiak, no Hammerhead – safely stowed with C-SEC. No cargo, or supplies – those were in a warehouse, where Thane and Grunt were hopefully adding to them. No distractions – just dozens and dozens of holo-displays, each showing a flickering orange candle. In the center, at the end of a path of synthetic rose petals, stood Tali.

Shepard walked carefully toward her, drinking in the sight. Wordlessly, she handed over the gift.

"Should I open this now?"

Her breath was catching in her throat; "Yes, please."

Tali carefully slit the packaging, opened the box – gasped. She looked up, eyes searching Shepard's, mouth open just a touch. "Shepard, …?"

"Take them." Tali nodded, lifting the silvery bracelets – cuffs, almost, each one two inches long – in her hands. They were oddly heavy for being so thin, and shone in the dim light. Shepard took the box from her and put it aside; expertly engaged Tali's forearm seals and slipped off her gloves.

"What are you doing?" it was a husky whisper.

"Marking you as mine."

"Ohh …"

Shepard slipped the bracelets over Tali's wrists, feeling them click shut; they were seamless, as promised. She'd have to tip that Volus again in the morning – she traced her fingertips over the cool metal.

"They're not just pretty, you know – they do this." Carefully moving Tali's arms, she spun the the girl around and guided her arms behind her back. When the two bracelets met, they clicked together – then held. Shepard ran her fingers over Tali's bare skin, standing so close – pressing her hips into Tali's bound hands, leaning in to whisper to her. "Only I can release them after they've been locked – only my fingertips will open them." She felt Tali's whole-body shiver.

"Do you want me to release them?"

"… no."

Harsher, now; her self control slipping. "Do you know what this means for you, for us?"

"Yes. Oh, _Eleh_, yes!"

Her arms went around Tali, squeezing her breasts through the perfectly thin suit. "I even own your name, _vas Normandy_. I own you, body and soul."

In the whisper of silk and flesh, Tali's reply was lost.

/ - / -

Tali felt bruised all over. Her whole body ached, wracked by pleasure after pleasure as Shepard used her. She blushed, reliving the experience – her lover's urgent need, their harsh coupling. She relaxed into Shepard's thigh, stretching languidly on the bed they'd made of their clothes.

"Oh, I'm going to be so sore – and sick." She laughed gently, kissing across Shepard's hip "But it was so very, very worth it."

"Mmm …" she idly toyed with Tali's fine hair, sending the girl into another fit of shivers; she'd used that hair as a handle, as a leash, holding her head back as she rocked herself on Tali's stiffer sex, each fucking the other … she blinked, smiled. "Then before you get too sick, there's one more thing I want to do." She stood, dusted herself off – helped Tali up.

"I felt the ship moving – where are we?"

"Deep space – a little over 220 light years from Earth."

"Not that I'll ever question you …" she flushed hotly, grinning up at Shepard "… but why are we here?"

In answer, Shepard pulled Tali's arms around her waist. "Go ahead, EDI – deploy the Antenna"

Twangy guitar music swelled to fill the hangar – EDI piping in the signals from just outside; a radio-telescope back into Earth's past.

_Every time I see you lookin' my way_

_Baby, baby, can't you hear my heartbeat?_

_In the car or walking down the highway_

_Baby, baby, can't you hear my heartbeat?_

_When you move up closer to me_

_I get a feelin' that's ooo-wee_

_Can't you hear the poundin' of my heartbeat_

_'cause you're the one I love, you're the one I love_

_When I feel you put your arms around me_

_Baby, baby, can't you hear my heartbeat?_

_Then I'm glad, I'm mighty glad I found you_

_Baby, baby, can't you hear my heartbeat?_

In the flickering virtual candlelight, with synthetic rose petals strewn about, Tali pressed her head to Shepard's chest, listening to her heartbeat as they danced to the real, live music - across the hanger deck, and well into the night. It was the last day of June, 2185.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

"Commander Shepard – thank you for your time, I'll keep this brief."

Admiral Hackett's scarred visage looked down from the large display-screen hidden in her model display case.

"No problem, Admiral – my time is yours. How can I help?"

"We have a deep-cover operative, out in Batarian space. Name of Dr. Amanda Kenson. Dr. Kenson recently reported that she has found evidence of an _imminent_ Reaper invasion."

Shepard whistled, leaning against the wall; Hackett continued.

"Just this morning, I received word that the Batarians arrested her. They're holding her in a secret prison facility on terrorism charges. I need you to infiltrate the prison and get her out of there. As a favor to me, I'm asking you to go in alone."

Shepard frowned "Admiral, I've got a hell of a team with me – this'd be a lot easier with my squad at my back."

"Kenson is my personal friend. If the Batarians see a squad of armed soldiers, they'll kill her. This is serious, Commander – go in with discretion, or don't go at all."

Shepard nodded, sat at her terminal to start typing up orders. "What exactly was she doing out there?"

"She's deep cover, Shepard – we only talk when we have to. She was out investigating a Reaper artifact in the system, and her last report said she'd found it."

"Admiral, not to be impertinent, but isn't the official position of the Alliance government that the Reaper threat is false? This must be some proof she's found."

"Sir, I'm happy to go and do this for you – not just as a favor, but for the safety of the Galaxy, if there's even a chance the Reapers could really invade so soon. But the Batarians aren't going to like an alliance rescue operation."

Hackett seemed to smile. "Well, then it's a good thing you're not technically part of the alliance, are you _Spectre_ Shepard?"

/ - / - / - / -

"Move, Kenson – move!"

Shepard ran toward the shuttle, firing blindly behind her with the overheating pistol. She dove behind the pylon as a rocket streaked past her; tossed a grenade casually behind her and hopped into the shuttle. The grenade went off, rocking the shuttle – Shepard slammed the door shut. "Take us out, Doctor!"

"Launching!"

The old shuttle spun on its pad, it's barriers already charging for the launch. Batarian small arms fire lit up the shield, then stopped entirely as Kenson punched the throttle. Tongues of flame licked up and down the launching pad, incinerating the Batarian squad.

"whoo … Commander Shepard, thank you for rescuing me. More than just my life, you may have just saved the Galaxy." She put the shuttle on auto-pilot, moving into the aft space. "I don't know if Hackett told you, but I have proof that the Reapers are going to invade."

Shepard put her weapons away, feeling her racing heart starting to normalize. She almost thought she could _hear_ the implants working. "Doctor Kenson, what kind of proof do you have?"

/ - / - / - / -

Sprinted up the corridor, slid left – fired, two bursts – watched another marine drop. She had to move fast. No time to mourn the fallen Marines, or curse the Reapers. Kenson was obviously indoctrinated, and the big mission-clock over the control room had said 90 minutes. An hour and a half before the Reapers invaded; a pathetic 5400 seconds to stop the end of all life.

Shepard leaped over the console, skidding to a stop in front of the large mission computer. Slung her rifle on her back and ran a status check; 5300 seconds. Green lights across the board – the asteroid was solid, Newton-drives ready, eezo online. 5240 seconds. Started the execute sequence. Fusion pre-igniters sputtering, thrumming. Felt the main eezo core spin up; 5208; felt the planetoid rumble underfoot. Targeting sequence initialize – coordinates for the Alpha Relay, locked in. 5140. The VI is speaking, and it sounds like it's indoctrinated too – 5120 – had to activate the project, no matter how many could die; 300,000 deaths could avert trillions. It was the kind of decision she'd been making all her career. 5100. Felt the station shake as a hundred antiproton thrusters fired at once, moving the chunk of rock out of its orbit. 5087. Heard Tali's voice in her mind, took the extra precious seconds to lock down the console. 5050. Reached for her comm, tried to summon the Normandy – drowned out by static. 5030.

She followed the blinking line on her omni-tool, chasing down Kenson – 4710. Slammed her back up against a wall in time to hear bullets whizzing past where she'd just been. Dropped to one knee, spun out of cover – three long bursts, three heavy slumps. 4690. Hurdled the bodies, sprinting down the ramp into the Eezo reactor core.

"You've done nothing, Shepard! I can still override power to the engines!" Kenson's shrill voice rang out of the speakers, seeming to come from everywhere. Shepard locked down the core safeguards – 4320. Ducked into the elevator, felt it trundle down. Stepped out, saw Kenson. 4300.

"Step away from the reactor!"

Kenson didn't turn, just lifted her hands and clenched her fists. "You've ruined _everything_! … I - I can't hear the whispers anymore …"

"Turn around, now!"

"You've taken them away from me – I will never see the reaper's arrival!" Kenson shrieked as she spun, a detonator in her hand. Thumb flipped the cover open, hovered over the button. "All you had to do was …"

Shepard saw Kenson's hand twitch; 4220; pulled the trigger. Caught Kenson twice in the chest – she slumped over with a wet gurgle, her thumb gently caressing the button. It beeped, sped – Shepard swore, tried to dive, felt the blast catch her off her feet and slam her against the wall.

The VI woke her – "Warning: Collision Imminent! Warning: Collision Imminent!". Shepard rolled up, looked around. The console was active – the asteroid was still accelerating, and it was getting very close to the Relay. She jogged over to the console

"Joker, this is Shepard – I need a pickup, _now_." The VI's tinny voice interrupted. "Main Communications System: Damaged. Evacuation protocol is now in effect: All personnel, proceed to escape shuttles."

She grinned – good old Alliance. "Where can I find an escape shuttle?" She shook herself out, started to run toward the shuttles; the big board showed 29 minutes. 1740 seconds. She broke into a sprint.

She ran through corridors – 1720 – sometimes barely squeaking through the doors, trying to rush through them. Leapt over the bodies of the dead, 1700, turned right and looked through the windows. Saw the stars streaking past 1650, no idea how fast they were going. Turned and moved. Sign said "Comm Tower", 1620, she ducked under the door and rolled up, sprinted down the corridor and slammed into the outer airlock door. It depressurized – 1600 – and she felt the door grinding slowly open. Sprinted into the starlight, heard the hiss of small arms. She dove behind a crate, chucked a grenade with carless efficiency. 1520.

She ran up the steps to the comm tower – 1308! – frantically dialed Normandy's guard frequency. The Alpha Relay was huge in the background, glowing faintly blue to her eyes.

"Shepard to Normandy – Joker, do you read me?!"

The comm tower flickered, whined as it's processors were overwhelmed. She stepped back as a 50 foot tall holo of Harbinger took shape on the landing pad.

**SHEPARD. YOU HAVE BECOME AN ANNOYANCE. YOU FIGHT AGAINST INEVITABILITY; DUST STRUGGLING AGAINST COSMIC WINDS.**

Shepard stood her ground – felt her fists balling up tight, gauntlets creaking under the strain. This wasn't her dream.

**THIS SEEMS A VICTORY TO YOU – A STAR SYSTEM, SACRIFICED. BUT EVEN NOW, YOUR GREATEST CIVILIZATIONS ARE DOOMED TO FALL. YOUR LEADERS WILL BEG TO SERVE US.**

"Yes, people will die." Her teeth were clenched tight. "Maybe we'll lose half the galaxy – maybe more. But I will do everything it takes to rid the galaxy of the Reaper threat." She was warming to it – flushed with rage, months of rage at the dream-vision that she couldn't escape. "And no matter how 'insignificant' we may be, we will fight – and we will find a way."

She grinned behind her helmet. "That's just what humans do."

**KNOW THIS, AS YOU DIE IN VAIN: YOUR TIME WILL COME. YOUR SPECIES WILL FALL. PREPARE YOURSELVES FOR THE ARRIVAL.**

Her comm crackled as the projection faded away. "…ander Shepard! Normandy to Commander Shepard, we are inbound for pickup!"

"Roger that, Joker! Let's get the hell out of here!" She dove into the open airlock, collapsed against the bulkhead. The inner door opened, and she ran to Joker's side.

They were racing the asteroid – Joker's hands flew across the controls, sending the activation commands. The Relay spun up – Joker sent the destination protocols, and the Relay shifted in its orbit.

"All hands, brace for impact!" She screamed into her comm.

Joker brought the Normandy alongside; nothing could be seen out the starboard viewports except the huge mass of the asteroid, growing every second. Tendrils of energy arced out of the Relay, caught on the Normandy! With a blur, they were through the relay.

Shepard sprinted to the galaxy map, yelling to EDI to update the sensor feeds – She saw the rippling rings the supernova wash out of the system they'd just left. When the map switched the system to red, she slumped over.

"It's over" she whispered, finally releasing her helmet. "It's over."

/ - / - / - / -

She was in the medbay, stretching on the exam table. Dr. Chakwas had cornered Hackett on his way through the doors, buying Shepard a few more seconds of peace. When he came through, he looked … tired.

"Sounds like you went through hell down there, Shepard. How are you feeling?"

"Fine – no more dreams, if that's what you mean." She scrubbed a hand over her jaw. "I … wasn't expecting to see you here."

"You went out there as a favor to me, so I decided to debrief you in person …"

Shepard nodded, straightened her bearing. Hackett did the same, assuming an effortless parade rest.

"… but that was _before_ the mass relay exploded, and destroyed an entire Batarian system!" Now he looked angry; She winced.

"Sir, have you heard any intel about what happened?"

He glared down at her. "No. All I know is that I sent you out to break Amanda Kenson out of prison, and now an entire system is destroyed! I'm hoping you can fill in the 'leap of logic' between those two events."

She stood from the table, and retrieved a datapad from the stand. Wordlessly, she handed it to the Admiral, then stood to parade rest to give her report.

"Kenson said the Reapers were the galaxy's salvation. Then she captured and sedated me, and held me against my will. She wasn't willing to stop the invasion, so I did what had to be done."

"Sounds like Amanda was Indoctrinated. Well that's a damn shame." Hackett slumped, stole a breath before continuing. "And you believe the reaper invasion really was a threat?"

"No doubt about it – we literally had minutes to spare."

"I'm sure all the details are in your report." Years of experience with 'field reports' gave a sardonic lift to his voice. "I won't lie to you, Shepard, the Batarians will want blood, and there's just enough evidence for a witch hunt. We don't want war with the Batarians, not with the Reapers at the galaxy's edge."

"What are you saying?" She felt her stomach sinking.

"You did what you did for the best of reasons, but there were more than 300 000 batarians' in that system – all dead, now."

"Any sacrifice is worth stopping a Reaper invasion!"

"I happen to agree with you, and I'm sorry those Batarians lost their lives. Someone has to make the difficult decisions that get people killed – as you well know. Unfortunately, not everyone will see it that way."

She leaned back against the table. "So what do you suggest?"

"Evidence against you is shoddy at best, but … you need to report to Earth, and face the music. I can't stop what's going to happen, but I can make the politicians fight for it."

She laughed, in spite of herself. "I stopped the Reaper invasion, and the Alliance wants to bring me up on charges?!"

Hackett sighed. "It's not a matter of preference – you'd be a convenient scapegoat to avoid an open war with the Batarian Hegemony." He walked toward the medbay door. "When this news hits Earth, they're going to officially summon you back – and you'd better be there with your dress blues on, ready to take the hit."

Her stomach was ice. "Yes, Sir."

"You've done a hell of a thing, Commander – a hell of a thing."

/ - / - / - / -

The Normandy was berthed at Zakera, but the festive atmosphere that normally uplifted her spirits depressed Shepard immensely. She stood in the hangar as the loading door fell slowly open. Her crew assembled behind her, their gear in the crates and trunks arranged along the wall. It was the 10th of June, and the Normandy was going home – to Earth.

Shepard stepped forward, shrugged expressively. "I don't know what to say to you all. When I thought I was taking you into your deaths, I had a stirring speech all prepared. And now that we've survived that and so much more, I find myself at a loss."

She met each of them, eye to eye – shook their hands. "Thane – you've been an incredible friend. I'm very glad to have had you with me, but I admit that I am a little glad to be leaving you here – I heard Kolyat is here on the station again, and this way you'll get to spend some time with him. I called in some favors – my last ones, it seems – and C-SEC will be looking out for you. Be well." They clasped hands, nodded – shared a smile.

"Garrus, it hardly seems like your work is ever done!"

"Well, it's not over for you either you know." He gestured with a talon, mandibles arranged in a grin. "You think any of this could hold you if you didn't want to be held? Don't worry Shepard – you'll be back soon, and we'll be ready."

They embraced, thumping each other on the back. "Take care, Garrus. Remember what I've taught you."

Grunt held up his hands. "Bah! I don't understand why you're letting yourself get locked up like a pyjack when we all know you did what you needed to do. But you're my battlemaster, so who am I to question you?"

She grinned. "The perfect Krogan. Head back to Tuchanka, Grunt – tell Wrex I said things are moving faster, now. Make sure you fill him in on the Alpha Relay incident."

"I will, Shepard." With a mighty roar from Grunt, and a horrible scream from Shepard, they clanged heads together. He picked up his crate – one handed – and clomped down the stairs without a backward look.

"Miranda, Jacob – you two would make fine prizes for an overzealous prosecutor, and we've been over this, so no arguing. Liara may be in touch – I know I can count on you to give her whatever she needs."

"Yes ma'am, Commander. Always a pleasure." She returned Jacob's perfect salute, clasped Miranda's arm.

"Take care of yourself, Shepard – I'll do what I can from out here to keep them off your back."

She smiled, warmly, at the woman who had been so cold when they met. "Thanks, Miranda."

There was an awkward moment before the crew – former crew – made their way down the ramp. Tali stood next to Shepard, lacing their fingers together in their usual way, watching them leave. "Well, Shepard – it's just us now."

Her heart ached. "Tali …"

"No! I didn't leave you for the Collectors, and I'm not leaving you for the Alliance either!" her strident voice echoed in the hanger as she spun to face Shepard. "You promised me – you promised me that you wouldn't leave me behind!"

Shepard reached out, grasped her hands. "Tali! I can't! What good would it do to take you with me? They'd either imprison you, or just peel you away from me and send you back to the Migrant Fleet!"

"Then they can send me away, or lock me up with you!" she cried, her head dropping and her voice falling to a ragged whisper. "I just … want one more night with you."

Shepard held her close, lifted her face – they were both crying, she realized, and their hands were once again laced tight. "Okay, my love – one more night."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

16 June 2185

Arcturus Station – Arcturus Stream Relay Hub

The gavel banged, and the courtroom fell silent. Butcher. Murderer. She stood – in freshly pressed dress blues, her medals on her chest. She stared resolutely ahead, watching the memory of her previous trial flash across her eyes.

"Commander Shepard, N7-5923-AC-2826. You stand accused of actions relating to terror attacks in the matter of the Bahak Relay. Pending a full investigation of this matter, you are placed under confinement. You are hereby stripped of your rank and privileges, and are remanded to the custody of the Military Police. Furthermore, your ship will be impounded …"

The world silenced. She found herself watching the judge's lips, but she wasn't hearing his pronouncements about her fate. She heard a different voice, reverberating in her hears, her mind.

**PREPARE YOURSELVES FOR THE ARRIVAL.**


	5. The Martyr

Tali'Zorah vas Normandy stood to one side of the wide corridor, looking out through the viewport at the warped starfield. The Neema was moving - she watched, unseeing, as the elongated blue streaks ahead seemed to stop, crystal white for just a moment as they passed, before leaping back and out of sight in a red blur. Ever the engineer, she dispassionately noticed the parallax shifting and idly tried to calculate their apparent speed; a deeply suppressed part of her looked out at the raw beauty of the stars, and marveled at the vastness of the cosmos. The blasé engineer was all Quarian, the starstruck wonderment all Shepard. It was the early 'morning' of the 1st watch, 14 June 2185.

_It had been viciously hard to leave her. Joker had taken his sweet time maneuvering through the Arcturus Stream's numerous facilities, "accidentally" approaching the wrong docks and suffering the most unexplainable comm failures. Tali and Shepard had curled up on the copilot's seat, holding each other for the last time. It was … beautiful, Tali thought. They hadn't said anything to each other at all; they hadn't needed to. At length, the Normandy had found its correct berthing, and been moored in place; the airlock opened, and a squad of Marines had followed the embarrassed looking Ensign who explained, very politely, that Shepard was under arrest, and would he please come with her? His voice almost cracked; Tali thought he must have been fresh out of the Academy._

_They were separated inside the facility – Shepard and the human crew of the Normandy were led one direction, and an obsequious little toady was trying to encourage Tali back toward the transit hub. Shepard stopped, looked over at her – her heart leapt in her chest, and she could barely hear through a suddenly deafening roar in her ears._

"_Take care of yourself, Miss vas Neema – please send my regards to the fleet." Shepard shook her hand – very professionally. They'd agreed to keep their relationship a secret from their people, for now, and their friends had all agreed. But the reality of it – hearing 'vas Neema' from Shepard's lips – was crushing. She found herself answering, grateful for the warble of her suit speaker; none of the humans would know she was crying._

"_Of course, Commander Shepard. May your Ancestors guide you." Shepard's hand tightened on hers; her lover could always tell when something was wrong._

And that had been that. She was asked some questions about her history with the Commander, and what conditions on the Normandy had been like – she said nothing. When it became clear that she wasn't going to say anything to them, the humans had calmly escorted her to the transit hub where a group of Quarians were waiting. They'd known she was coming, and were waiting to take her back to the fleet. As the shuttle departed for the Neema, the others tried to make her feel better; "Back where you belong" said one - "Going home" said others. She had sat alone in the middle of the conversation, saying nothing – she was leaving her home, and she didn't belong anywhere anymore.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

She was in Shala'Raans quarters, the two of them watching Shepard's preliminary hearing together. The commentators were accusing her of the most shocking things – the human media outlets were stringing all of her activities over the past few months into some kind of Cerberus plot. One even branded her an anti-alien extremist, which sent Tali into paroxysms of laughter – Ancestors, if only they knew.

The prosecuting team – the Batarian government had sent an envoy to press their charges against Shepard – made its case. She watched in dismay as they laid out a convincing chain of evidence that suggested Shepard was a human extremist, a Cerberus terrorist, and a cold-blooded killer. She knew better, of course – knew that Shepard could be ruthless when needed, but she wasn't the bloodthirsty mass-murderer they were making her out to be. Then the final link in the chain – they brought up her military service record from Torfan.

Over the next twenty minutes, as the prosecution gleefully showcased her performance there, Tali sank into her seat. She'd never asked about Shepard's past, or what she'd done before they met; their private conversations had been about their immediate plans and missions, or sleepy pillow-talk. Jokes and personal anecdotes, long stories about their homes; she'd never known that her lover was the most famous almost-war-criminal in the Alliance, never connected the instant wariness whenever Shepard introduced herself with the Butcher of Torfan.

She let the words from the screen wash over her and lost herself in memory, trying to understand the woman who was suddenly a stranger to her. The casual way she'd let Garrus get his violent revenge; the deaths of Miranda's betrayer, the Spectre on Illium, that wretched Nassana woman and her sister. Thousands of mercenaries, dead at her hands; Ancestors, hundreds of thousands of Batarians – soldiers and colonists. Snippets of conversation echoed in her mind as she watched helmet-cam footage of Torfan – then-lieutenant Shepard was already an efficient soldier, and Tali could see the start of her now-customary fluid gracefulness.

"… _do your goddamn jobs, both of you!"_

"… _always get to have all the fun, Garrus – I never get to be the one pulling the trigger."_

"_I don't want to have to make the choice between you and the mission …"_

"_I get the job done, regardless of who gets hurt … I'll leave every one of these people – friends and crew – to die…"_

"… _did what you had to do, and got the job done. I'm proud of you."_

"… _learned that no one is going to come for me … the mission always comes first …"_

"_Death is my job … most of the time, I'm very good at it …"_

"_I get the job done, regardless of who gets hurt."_

Tali wrapped her arms around herself, shaking. She'd been so lost in lust, love, wonderment - she hadn't seen. She'd watched Shepard leave rubble and carnage in her wake, but she'd never brought up her concerns, never suggested that there might be another way. Garrus had been hesitant, she suddenly remembered – Shepard had gradually burned out the C-SEC training from him, taught him to be as ruthless as herself. _Who are you, Shepard?_ Tali thought_, _desperately. _Who am I going to become?_

/ - / - / - / -

She'd excused herself from Auntie Raan's, and was curled up on her little bed. The fleet was as cramped as ever, but it felt claustrophobic to her now. She'd experienced the width of the galaxy, slept on a bed as wide as this room, and against all reason had gotten _used_ to coming "home" and unsealing her suit. Now, her narrow bed felt like little more than a bench, her private room – an almost unheard of luxury for an unmarried crewman – a broom closet, and her suit a prison. She laughed bitterly, recalling how vast and empty the Normandy had seemed, how poorly she slept on the so-quiet ship. Now, the noises of the crew were loud through the bulkheads, and her sleeping was worse than ever.

She lay on her bed, idly scrolling through the extranet feeds. Most were breathless accounts of Shepard's hearing, talking-heads debating the rightness of her actions. One slightly concerned pundit noted that Shepard had said nothing in her own defense thus far; she'd only smiled serenely to the cameras and watched the circus unfold. The galaxy seemed obsessed with what it all meant.

The little chime distracted her from the steady stream of bad news - an email from Garrus asking for a vid conference the next day. She agreed instantly.

/ - / - / - / -

"Hey there, Tali. Watching the hearing coverage?"

"Yeah – I'm not sure what to think."

"Don't worry, I'm sure Shepard has a plan – besides, Anderson and Hackett have her back. She'll be fine."

Tali smiled "Garrus, are you worried about me? I'll be okay too, you know."

"Of course! But I figured if _I_ was lonely, you must be feeling it even worse." He looked around conspiratorially, then leaned close to the display. "How are you holding up?"

She rolled her head, exasperation leaking into her voice. "Please. I was a big girl before I met Shepard, you know. I'm doing fine."

He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Uh-huh. You miss her, don't you?"

A sigh. "Yes, Ancestors help me, I miss her a lot." Tali looked up at him, cocking her head to the side. "Garrus – did you know?"

"About what?"

"About Torfan, you idiot."

Uncomfortable silence as he scratched at his mandibles.

"You did know! You knew who she was and didn't tell me?"

"How was I supposed to know that you didn't? She was famous before she became the first human Spectre, and I thought you already knew. When I realized you didn't … I didn't want to say anything. You were coming out of your shell, really getting the hang of being on the crew. I didn't want to say anything that would change your opinion of Shepard."

Turians were hard to read, Tali realized – she couldn't tell if Garrus was embarrassed or ashamed. She pressed the advantage anyway. "When did you find out that I didn't know?"

He grunted. "When we were waiting for Saren to surface the first time, and Shepard took that job for the Blake woman – the crime bosses? You were so shocked when Shepard didn't just arrest her on the spot."

Tali nodded – she remembered the moment well. It had been one of the first eye-opening experiences that Shepard had given her, an object lesson in earning favors. Looking back, Tali could even see where Shepard had been cunning, how she had arranged things for her best advantage. End the people selling the drugs, clean up the organization, refocus their energy into less-destructive channels – most importantly she had Helena Blake for a pretty big favor. Tali found herself nodding along with each point – that favor had come in handy back on Omega. Garrus' sharp eye caught it.

"I can see you agreeing with it all over again, you know." He leaned in, tipping his head in curiosity. "How are you feeling about it all? You've been … with her for a while now, seen how she works – do you think she's the psychopath they're making her out to be?"

She sighed and hugged herself tight, rubbing her hands over her upper arms. "I … I don't know, anymore. When we were right there, in the thick of it with her? It all seemed so right, like there was no other choice. But now – I watched the helmet video from Torfan, and she executed those prisoners, Garrus." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I feel like I don't even know her."

He sat forward, a frown lowering his jaw. "Hey – don't second guess yourself, or her. I used to do that all the time – especially at the beginning, when I was still technically C-SEC.".

"Yes – I was remembering, earlier, how you used to disagree with some of her methods; after everything today, I started to think that she'd corrupted you."

"Not likely!" he laughed "I was so angry at C-SEC, all the time – too many rules, too many regs preventing me from doing what needed to be done! She freed me from that." He gestured with a hand "The whole galaxy rests on a complex system of laws, but the dirty little secret is that it needs people who break the rules - like Shepard - to get anything done. She's made some hard choices, but if you stop and ask yourself - would you or I do things differently? I bet the answer is 'no'."

"I don't know. The Council never seemed to approve of her methods."

He made a dismissive sound "They don't know about the collectors, and they think Reapers are a Prothean fairy tale. They didn't talk to Sovereign and Harbinger, or watch Saren re-animate into a husk, or any of the impossible things that Shepard has had to deal with." He cocked his head slightly. "Besides - they upheld her Spectre status when she came back. Even if they didn't believe her, they knew they needed her. And why would they create the Spectre's in the first place if they didn't recognize the need for them?"

Tali smiled slightly at his impassioned speech. "You'd have made a good Spectre yourself, you know."

"Not while they've got Shepard to compare me to. But I'm serious, Tali – deadly serious. I was on my own after her death, and I chose to make my way to Omega to die." He waved off her concern. "No, hear me out. I did some brutal things there, and I've killed hundreds in what the law would probably consider cold blood. But each one of them was a murderer, a thief, and a menace. Killing them was the right thing to do – even if it was brutal, it was necessary, and nobody else was going to do it for me. Shepard has done the same thing – what she had to do, every time, when nobody else was going to make the hard choice. I didn't see it at first, but she opened my eyes."

He looked down at her, smiling suddenly. "I know I must sound like I'm either indoctrinated or in love, but it's just the truth. She isn't a cruel woman, Tali – she's just doing what needs to be done, what nobody else will do."

She looked at him curiously. "Even knowing what she's done, you believe that?"

"With all my scarred little heart. She's a good person, doing the best she can for the greatest number of people. This incident with the relay is just the latest example. 300,000 dead, to save trillions of lives and buy the galaxy some precious time to prepare – time that they're squandering, but that's not her fault."

She was looking at Garrus, but not seeing him – lost in old conversations again, she heard Shepard's voice echoing in her mind …

"… _I'm releasing her body to her husband … think I won't do everything in my power?"_

"… _The Ascension is just one ship – we can't risk losing to Sovereign. Focus all fire …"_

"… _Conrad, listen very carefully: this is not acceptable."_

"… _get the job done, regardless of who gets hurt …"_

"… _what are you doing here? Do you know how dangerous this place is, get the hell out!"_

"… _let him go, and you walk away. Don't be stupid …"_

Memories of Shepard's often blunt solutions brought a smile to Tali's lips: she was never what anyone would call polite, or even patient - but no matter how hard the Batarian envoy had tried, Tali simply couldn't believe that her lover was out to take revenge, or serve personal interest. Even Nassana had been a terrible person, and protected by the lax Illium trade laws she'd been untouchable by everyone. But not Shepard.

"Tali? Hello? Are you still with me?"

Shaking herself out of her reverie, she nodded to Garrus. "Yes – I was just reliving some of her less-diplomatic moments in my head."

"And how are you feeling about them?"

She sighed, shrugged a shoulder. "Confused. I can see how bad they must look to the galaxy, but … I remember the terror of Sovereign, and seeing it latching onto the Citadel. When the Destiny Ascension called for help, I remember thinking 'How could anyone choose to sacrifice dozens of ships to save just one'? None of the Admirals of the Flotilla would make that choice. Or the string of petty criminals who have been beaten straight, or at least straighter? Thane's son and a Turian politician, both safe – because Shepard scared a small-time gangster nearly to tears." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I heard what she did to Fist – he wasn't going to let me go. But I was safe, after she killed him, and so were a lot of other people."

Garrus watched her silently.

"I guess it's just a shock. She's been so wonderful to me – and with us, she's so open and patient. But … I can't get the image of her executing those Batarians out of my mind. I can't forget who she is, and what she's done – and I can't help but think that there must have been a better way."

Garrus' voice was gentle. "Sometimes, there isn't another way. Sometimes, someone has to die so that others can live – and someone has to make that decision. It's the hardest one in the galaxy, and she's made it dozens, hundreds of times over. I don't envy that."

"Me either."

She sat in silence after disconnecting with Garrus, trying to understand what he'd been telling her. It felt like she'd known Shepard forever, but there were long blank spots - the two years she was dead, the time after meeting her on Freedom's Progress; the time she got locked up by her own people. That one felt like the longest blank in her life.

She hated being robbed of sleep.

Garrus had some good points, she was forced to concede - he'd had a kind of deep-down contact with the worst the galaxy had to offer that Tali had managed to avoid. And yet, it was all too convenient - he was too firmly in Shepard's camp to offer her any kind of help. A slow smile dawned as she realized exactly who she needed to talk to. A few quick keystrokes, then she could relax.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

She'd made some excuse for leaving in such a hurry a few days ago, and was back at Auntie Raan's quarters. Being an Admiral had some privileges – like a large enough space to have a sitting area. They were again watching the news feeds of the hearing, sitting next to each other. The Alliance JAG officers were rebutting some of the Batarian charges – at the moment, they were showing excerpts of Shepard's after-action testimony in the Torfan Incident.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Raan's voice started Tali, who had been watching attentively.

"T-talk about what?"

"Tali – I practically raised you. You don't think I can feel the tension coming from you?"

Tali looked over, realizing that Auntie Raan had been watching _her_ instead of the vid screen. "No, I don't particularly want to talk about it."

There was a note of sympathy in Raan's voice "You didn't know, did you?"

Tali gasped. "But you did?! Keelah, I'm the only one in the galaxy who didn't know!"

Raan held her hands up. "Easy, Tali – easy. Think about this. Does knowing what she did in the past change anything about what she did for you?"

Tali sat a moment. "No, Auntie – I spoke with another member of Shepard's crew, who had much the same to say. He admires her – says the galaxy needs people like her in order to get anything done. I think …" Tali's lips quirked, remembering the times they'd visited the Fleet. "… that she'd make a terrible Quarian, but I have to admit that I am amazed at what she's achieved. And to be honest, if I'd known how productive it can be to knock heads together _before_ I left for my Pilgrimage …"

"I've had the same thought ever since witnessing her display at your trial. If only _I_ could yell at the other admirals during our meetings …"

The two burst into giggles together. It was the 21 June 2185.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

"Staff Commander Shepard, please rise."

She stood easily to her feet, assuming a precise parade rest. After two weeks of hearings, her dress uniform was starting to feel less foreign but she still missed the sure footing her boots gave. She resisted all urge to look up along the gallery railing, instead carefully arranging her face into the peaceful smile she'd worn every day in this courtroom. It hurt to smile like this, knowing that every second brought the Reapers closer, that every day wasted examining her past was one less day spent preparing for what was coming.

"This Board has sat in recess, and we have reached a preliminary conclusion. Have you anything else to add before this Board renders its findings?"

She blinked – echoes of her past hammering at her mind. "Just one thing, sir – I did what I had to do."

Her JAG Advocate nudged her, gesturing with his head to the bench. At Shepard's look of confusion, he hissed under his breath. "The Board asked if we were ready to hear their decision, not if you had anything to add!"

She cleared her throat. "My apologies, sir, I misheard you."

There was muttering in the gallery – muted whispering. She could almost feel her eyes pulling upward, desperately wanting to look them all in their sneering faces. She took a deep, calming breath.

"Very well. This Board, having heard the arguments from both sides, has found insufficient evidence to continue to trial …" The courtroom erupted. Shepard kept her smile fixed, desperately trying not to break into a grin. The gavel was pounding, echoing around the small room as the spectators in the gallery traded urgent whispers and shouted curses down into the room below. Bailiffs appeared and started rounding people up – there was a thrumming energy in the crowd, spilling over the railing. Even the Board looked affected by it, turning to give each other significant glances or glaring up into the milling crowd.

At length, order prevailed – the loudest spectators were ejected bodily, and the extra dozen bailiffs took up positions along the railing and at the doors. The gavel pounded once, twice, before the Judge continued. "This Board, having heard the arguments from both sides, has found insufficient evidence to continue to trial – and we hereby absolve Commander Shepard of any criminal liability in the matter of the Bahak Relay."

Silence. Shepard could feel her smile starting to slip – a quiet instinct warned that there was more to come.

"However – we do find sufficient evidence that Commander Shepard violated her oath of office by knowingly associating herself with a terrorist organization, and that she has acted in a manner unbecoming an officer of the Sol Systems Alliance."

He took a breath, looking around the room as if daring another loud eruption.

"For conduct unbecoming an officer and aiding a terrorist organization, this Board hereby relieves Ms. Shepard of her rank and duties. She will be processed for indefinite military detention, and held under house arrest on Earth."

Shepard felt her smile fade as her world collapsed around her. Relieved of rank and duties. Butcher. Indefinite house arrest. Murderer. She kept her head up, looking ahead.

"Ms. Shepard – step forward."

She moved forward, stood in the middle of the courtroom. She kept her eyes fixed on the large Systems Alliance crest on the wall behind the Board as the bailiffs approached. With practiced ease, they stripped off the rank stripes on her epaulettes, pulled off the pips on her sleeves, took her service cap and dog tags. It took less than 30 seconds before she stood in an overly long blue and black suit that was no longer a uniform.

"Ms. Shepard, you are remanded to military custody until such time as you are deemed fit to release. This court is adjourned."

Cold. She had to be cold. This had to be no different than being officially dead, working with Cerberus, being a Spectre but not an officer. Cold – everything was so cold. Her implants ached fiercely as she was escorted out of the courtroom. She felt the heat from the camera-drone lights, but heard nothing of the shouted questions, none of the noise of the suddenly too-close crowd. She kept staring ahead, saying nothing, moving mechanically. Cold. She'd been a marine all her life, and now she was nothing.

When she looked up, she was sitting alone on the edge of a double bed. None of the lights were on inside, and the only illumination came from the reflected city-lights below her. She stood, feeling her muscles and implants aching from too much time sitting rigidly immobile, and walked stiffly to the window. She was several floors up, looking out over the Alliance campus in whatever city this was. She turned to explore the rest of her 'apartment', which didn't take long - her bedroom suite connected to a small sitting / living area with a kitchenette, and a very short entry way. She noticed that her door's holographic display was orange – out of habit, she went to bring up her omni tool and found that missing, too. Instead, she pressed on the panel. It chimed, then turned green and opened – onto the unsmiling face of a young marine, in service uniform and carrying his sidearm.

"Ma'am – did you need something?"

"No, Corporal – just exploring. Carry on."

"Very good, ma'am." He stepped back, and the door slid shut; the panel reverted to orange.

The only thing of interest in the tiny apartment was the computer – tucked against one wall, it bore a large warning declaring in 8 languages that all activities conducted from the computer would be monitored. She threw it away, and sat down again on the bed. It was 30 June, 2185.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

Tali rolled over in her sleep, idly slapping at the source of the quiet chiming that had woken her. When it cut off, she let out a soft sigh and started to roll back over.

"Good morning, Tali."

With a squeak, she rolled away from the noise, instinctively reaching for the grip of the shotgun that wasn't there anymore. She blinked, running a morning-stimulant routine on her suit by touch - Liara T'Soni looked amused on the vid screen over her cramped desk.

"Oh - good morning Liara. Sorry, I didn't know you were calling."

"That's alright - I'm sorry for waking you. I got your message - do ... do you want to talk?"

Tali flopped down on the edge of her bed fully awake, the stims and subharmonics doing their job quickly. "No, but I think I need to." She looked up at Liara with a searching look.

Liara nodded, her wide eyes full of compassion. "Yes - I was very sorry to hear about Shepard. I know that you and she were still in the beginnings of love – to have that taken away must be brutal."

Tali flinched, unconsciously rubbing at the metal still on her wrists. "Thank you. It's been a rough time out here; missing her, and reliving our time together - then seeing her hearings."

"Oh, yes - I can imagine. I, too, watched her hearings – I am relieved that the Alliance isn't so foolish as to press for a court-martial, but relieved of duty is bad enough!" She was almost indignant. "I hope that something can be done, and soon, but I fear that even my influence may not be enough. I've contacted Admirals Hackett and Anderson, and I'll let you know what they have to say."

"Thank you. I'm certain that you've got more influence here than I do, and I appreciate anything you can do for her."

"But that's not why you wrote to me, is it?"

A sigh. "No. I ... didn't know about Torfan. And now I do, and I don't know what to think. She's still Shepard, still the woman who ..." she flushed suddenly, shifting on the bed "... fell in love with me, who made me feel special. But at the same time, she's also the Butcher."

Liara watched her, evaluating. She'd learned a lot about how to read people - she smiled slightly in remembrance; Shepard had been the first to teach her.

"I learned who she was shortly after joining the Normandy, at Therum?" Tali nodded; Liara continued "I was deeply curious about our leader, and I dug through the news archives looking for personal information. At first, I was appalled – I'd just seen her blast me out of a Prothean ruin by destroying half of it, then kill a Krogan Battlemaster and a handful of Geth like it was an everyday afternoon for her. She seemed very dangerous to me, the archetypal impatient human."

Tali smiled. "Yes - Wrex was so furious that he missed that mission."

"Well, Wrex was constantly spoiling for a fight in those days - I'm glad that he's settled a little. At any rate, I got to know Shepard – we talked during her rounds, and on missions, and I grew to realize that she wasn't the fanged monster the news had made her out to be. She can be very cold, and very blunt – In fact, I don't think I ever saw her exercise finesse if force was an option..." they shared a look, smiling "... but in everything she did, I saw a spark of goodness. Every decision – even the painful choice to leave the Destiny Ascension, and the council – has been the best choice she could make at the time, with what she knew and in her circumstances. I haven't always agreed with her – we'd have rows about it sometimes, which I never won – but I was very naïve back then."

Liara laughed quietly, shaking her head. "I'm sorry - I'm suddenly not sure how much any of this will help you. You said Garrus approves, and you sounded like you wanted another viewpoint - but Shepard converted me too. I wouldn't have been able to recover her body, or give her to Cerberus, or build my career as an information broker without the lessons she taught me; lessons of strength, of self-reliance, of crushing her enemies."

Tali shook her head, laughing in spite of herself. "Well, it's true - I was hoping that if anyone on the crew could provide a different opinion of her, it would be you - but you're just as bad as Garrus!"

A delicate sniff. "I am _not_ as bad as Garrus, thank you. But I can see the similarities between them: the Turian military philosophy is to completely destroy an enemy's ability to fight back, as quickly as possible. They end wars - and save lives - by brutally destroying their enemy's infrastructure; Shepard has won her battles and saved hundreds if not thousands of lives the same way."

"So ... what you're saying is that she did the right thing on Torfan? That you agree with her decisions?"

She scrubbed a hand over the deep blue ridges over her ear. "Not all of them, Tali - but for the most part, yes. I was younger when she and I disagreed so vehemently - I thought there was always another way. Since being on my own, I've come to learn that the other way is usually worse, bloodier, or stupider. Her actions on Torfan saved the lives of many of the soldiers behind her. She sacrificed her own unit to preserve them - it was a heroic action, but she carries the stigma of it wherever she goes."

Tali nodded. "Thank you - for explaining."

"You're very welcome. I suppose I need to wrap this up – you just wanted a friendly opinion, not a dissertation! Old habits die hard, I'm afraid." Liara smiled again. "Ultimately, I trust Shepard with my life, with the lives of my friends and family and loved ones. I believe whole-heartedly in her. You may remember that I melded with her after the Prothean beacons – Tali, I've seen into her mind, into every dark crevasse and hidden place. There is no remorse in her, but no malice either. She's an incredible person – perhaps the only one who gives our poor galaxy any hope."

Liara let them sit in silence for a few moments, giving Tali time to think and process before she spoke again. "Thank you for reaching out to me - I don't know if I've ever told you, but I consider you something like a sister that I never had. I ... would like very much if we could stay friends, and stay in touch."

Tali looked up quickly. "Of course! I'll write whenever I can. And thank you, for this ... for everything. You're a good friend."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

It was the 2nd of July when Shepard next attempted to leave her apartment. She paged the door, then stood awkwardly waiting. She paged it again, and was about to slam it a third time when it finally switched green and slid open. The previous guard had gone – in his place was a hulking marine in undress grey's. Shepard's eyes went up, and up – she was tall, but he stood at least 2 meters, and had to mass over 120 kilos. His arms bulged obscenely, and each was decorated with tattoos. He saluted crisply.

"Good morning, Commander."

She stood still, evaluating. "You're not supposed to call me commander, marine. Or salute."

His rough face broke into a sunny smile. "Not supposed to do a lot of things, Commander – but I do 'em. Name's Vega, ma'am, James Vega. Admiral Anderson pulled me off colony security duty for this assignment."

Her tone was dry "I'm so dangerous I rate my own guard? I'm flattered."

He looked left and right, as if afraid someone would be watching, before leaning in a bit and trying to whisper. "Uh, not exactly ma'am. See, I'm a fan of yours from way back, and Anderson knew it. The publicity's starting to die down – he figured you might want a friendly face at the door." He gestured over himself with one hand – in undress grey uniform, and without his sidearm, he didn't look like he was guarding a prisoner.

"Well, you certainly don't look like you're guarding a nuke – unlike the last kid. So, Vega, I guess you can stay. If Anderson's pulling favors for me, any chance I can leave soon?"

He looked sheepish, scrubbing his hand over his short hair. "Uh, no ma'am – he didn't mention anything about that to me. I think that you're probably going to be here a while. At the very least, I can escort you around the campus – don't have to stay cooped up in there all day long."

Shepard sighed, nodding. House arrest, indefinite detention – she wasn't part of the Alliance, she reminded herself. The twitch of pain that memory brought up was a precious reminder.

"Well marine, I'm famished and that kitchenette is useless unless it comes with P-rations. Point me toward the mess hall and I'll try not to get too far ahead."

He smiled again. "Great! Come with me, ma'am, I know just the place."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

"May I join you, Miss vas Normandy?"

Tali looked up into Liara's smiling face. "Of course, Doctor T'Soni. The view is lovely."

Liara gathered her narrow skirt to one side as she sat on the wide bench overlooking the Presidium Gardens on the Citadel. They sat in companionable silence, watching the people strolling past and basking in the reflected nebula-scatter.

With a relaxed sigh, Tali slumped down. "I don't know how you managed to arrange this – and I don't want to. It's good to be back here." Liara smiled, ducking her head.

"Thank you, Tali – It did take a little bit of 'arranging' to make sure the Drive Core Engineering Conference happened here instead of on Etanni, but it was worth it. I've missed seeing you, you know."

"Same! Garrus has vanished into the Turian Hierarchy – I can only hope that he's being listened to. And since I was never very close with the rest of the crew, I've been ... well, I've been lonely. It's good to have a friend from the old days, who understands."

"I do understand what you're going through – now, more than ever. I sometimes feel like you and Feron are my only outlets! But you were with Shepard's crew for months – you didn't make any other friends there?"

"My friends on the new Normandy were all human, and have all gone back to earth. Although …" she looked up suddenly. "I think I remember Thane Krios retiring here. I might look him up before I go back to the fleet."

"Good! If you and he were even on friendly terms, you could probably offer each other some solace about now. Shepard tends to inspire fierce loyalties – Thane might be feeling her loss almost as keenly as you."

Tali laughed bitterly. "No offense, but I doubt it. I can't stop thinking about her, worrying about her – I check my messages every 15 minutes, even though I know there's no way they'll give her access to a computer; I dream of her almost every night." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I don't really have anyone else to tell this to, Liara …" Tali looked over, a pleading look in her eyes.

Liara nodded. "You and she had a very passionate relationship – I can't imagine that it's easy to go from that to being so suddenly alone."

"Exactly!" she leaned forward, head in her hands. "I … don't laugh … I remember her touch, and her smell – she smelled like musk and ozone and overheated metal after being groundside, but she always smelled of cinnamon when she'd cleaned up." She was fidgeting with her hands "And she was so soft – so patient with me."

Liara gently touched her shoulder, causing Tali to look up into her sympathetic eyes. "I understand, my friend – my sister, I hope. I saw what you two had together; what you will have again, I'm sure of it."

"I hope so, Liara. I feel like I'm going crazy without her." She sighed deeply. "It doesn't help that I'm trapped on the fleet. You, though …" Tali snorted a laugh. "You can come and go as you please."

Liara looked over at her friend, a small frown on her features. "It's not quite that easy, you know – even for me. I have certain … duties, and it's hard for me to get away."

"Psh! You're the …" Tali stopped herself, coughing unsubtly. "… an excellent information broker. How could you be stuck? You have the whole galaxy at your disposal."

"Not … exactly. My ship isn't quite spaceworthy – so any time I want to travel, I need to leave via short-range shuttle, which means attaching to a regular vessel. And the more I come and go, the more likely I am to attract attention. So in a way, I am even more constrained than you are – as a Quarian, nobody notices when you leave or return to the Flotilla." She sighed, turning her hands over in defeat. "As always, I am bound by my responsibilities."

Tali turned on the bench, facing Liara a bit more directly. "Is that why you couldn't come with us to the collectors? Because you were trapped by your responsibilities?"

"What!? Tali, where did that come from? You know I wanted to join you."

"But you didn't!" she stood, pacing the length of the bench. "When we came to Illium, you were so focused on finding Feron, finding the …" she stopped and looked around. "… him. You could have come with us, but you stayed there. I … want your friendship, Liara – I need a sister I can confess to, someone who will understand. But I need to know why you didn't come with us."

Liara sat very still, watching Tali with narrowed eyes. "When Shepard died, I was devastated. I think … I think that I had a crush on her, of a sort." She held up a hand, stalling Tali. "Had, I said. I threw myself into my work, and in time I learned about Shepard's body. The collectors wanted it – the Shadow Broker had it, and was going to sell it to them. I did … things, Tali, things that I'm not proud of, things that Shepard would have seen the necessity of. I left a friend, Feron, to death or worse because it was more important to get Shepard out."

Tali sat back down, wringing her hands; Liara continued, watching her closely. "I gave – GAVE – Shepard to Cerberus, because I knew that of all the interests in the galaxy competing for her, they had the resources and the ambition to bring her back. I was in touch with Miss Lawson every step of the way. When they did it – when they woke her up – I was overjoyed. Shepard was back, and I had helped! I felt like I had finally done something right."

She sighed, leaning her head back and closing her eyes momentarily. When they reopened, she was staring into the blue 'sky' over the presidium. "I kept in touch with Miss Lawson. That's how I knew she was coming to Illium, it's how I knew the details about her mission. I'd heard dozens of reports from the places she'd been, of course, but it was Miranda feeding me details. How angry Shepard was. How callous she'd become; how deeply she resented Cerberus. When we spoke on Illium, I realized exactly how much she hated her own resurrection. She'd died a hero, Tali – and I brought back a monster. She was undead, unhappy, bitter about her treatment by the Alliance. I hadn't ever considered that part."

Tali leaned forward, resting a hand on Liara's knee; all anger had gone from her voice. "But she wasn't, Liara – she didn't resent you, she never blamed you for what you did. I guess … looking back, I can see that she would have agreed with your decisions. You did what you had to do, just like she's always done." Her voice trembled, the weight of the conversations with Liara and Garrus coming together, solidifying for her. You do what you have to do. If nothing else, she could carry on her lovers' motto. With a firmer voice, she took Liara's hands in hers.

"You did what nobody else would do, Liara, and I finally understand what that means. You brought Shepard back – you gave her a chance." She smiled, looking for understanding in Liara's eyes. "Do you understand what you've done for me? As miserable as I am without her, I wouldn't give up the time she and I had. You gave me that."

Liara smiled gently, squeezing Tali's hands. "Thank you for saying so. But I didn't feel that way at the time. All I could feel was how deeply I'd betrayed her trust, how much I'd helped hurt her. Every time I saw her, I wanted to drop to my knees and beg her forgiveness; I knew I needed to atone somehow, so I chose to go back to the beginning. Feron and I, and how I'd left him to the Broker." She shrugged a shoulder, sighing. "And in the end, I didn't even do that. Shepard came riding in to my rescue, just like before. She gave me the Broker, gave me Feron – and she forgave me, Tali. That night, on the Normandy – I finally felt at peace with my decision."

"Well, good. I'm sorry for the pain you went through, Liara –and I'm sorry I ever doubted you. Can you forgive me … sister?"

A gentle laugh, the tension draining out of her. "Yes, I think so – if you and Shepard can forgive me, I suppose I can forgive you." Liara leaned in, a mischievous smile on her face. "Now tell me – what _are_ those little bulges at your wrist, and do I want to know why you have them?"

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

58 …

59 ...

60.

With a grunt of satisfaction, Shepard dropped from the door frame and massaged her arms. She'd been relieved of duty for 3 months so far, but she'd be damned if she was going to lose her trim. She'd taken to doing calisthenics morning and night: pullups on the doors' narrow frame, pushups on the cold kitchenette floor, situps until her abs ached. Lately she'd added combat rolls around the apartment, and cover fire drills around the chairs and coffee table. She'd felt pretty clever about that – naturally, Vega chose that moment to come in wondering what the hell was going on. That had been an embarrassing conversation until he came back the next day with training weapons.

It was the 24th of September 2185. They trained together nearly every week now.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

Shala'Raan stood impatiently, hands on her hips. "Well?"

"Auntie Raan, I … I don't know what to say."

"Say yes, you silly girl! Your father was a respected member of the Admiralty Board, and you're being offered his seat! You say 'Yes, Auntie Raan, I'll accept this position' and then we go see the Board to make the announcement."

"But … but why? I'm just a girl, what do I know about being an Admiral?"

"For one thing, you served under Commander Shepard. That woman had an incredible fire – if you paid attention at all, you've already absorbed more than you think and you'd be a better admiral than most."

Tali crossed her arms over her chest, annoyance creeping into her voice. "I hope there's another reason."

"Yes, there is – you are an expert on the Geth, and we need that expertise at the highest levels right now."

A surge of fear shot through her – could they have found out about the meetings? Or … or could they be bearing fruit? She needed to talk with Koris.

"Uh, thank you and everything – but I need to think about it before I can make a decision."

Raan shook her head. "No, Tali'Zorah – there is no time. The Board is at a crossroads, and we need your knowledge of the Geth to make any progress. We can't keep wandering the stars forever, and there is a considerable feeling among the people that we need to find a home."

Tali tried to keep her voice calm. "I'd be more than happy to lend my advice and expertise to the Board, Auntie Raan – but to actually become an Admiral? That seems like a big step."

"It's a step you're more than ready for!" Raan leaned in, gesturing to make her point. "You're the daughter of Rael'Zorah. You've been outside in the Galaxy more than any of us – I'm ashamed to admit it, but we've become extremely insular, and you've broken past that. You served with Shepard, fought the Geth, and lived to tell the tale. Kal'Reegar has had nothing but praise for you since your mission to Haestrom – and to tell the truth, you're something of a celebrity to the fleet. Having you on the Admiralty Board would galvanize those old fools, and help connect us to the people. Tali, please – we need you."

She hung her head, sighing deeply. "Okay, Auntie Raan – I'll take the appointment."

/ - / - / - / -

When Tali finally slipped into her quarters, the console was already chiming an incoming message. Taking two quick steps, she slapped at it. "What!"

Liara blinked down at her. "Well, hello to you too!"

"Liara! I'm sorry, I just had a very long day."

"Yes, I heard. I'm calling to congratulate you, in fact, on your appointment." She grinned at Tali's obvious confusion. "I won't chide you for not telling me before I found out on my own – that would just be unfair! – but congratulations none the less."

"How did … ? Who …?"

"Now Tali, you know I won't tell you."

She grinned, spreading her arms wide. "I wouldn't dream of exposing your agents, my dear sister. _Apparently_ I haven't been sharing enough juicy details for you?" They giggled together for a moment, before Tali continued. "If you really wanted, you could 'arrange' another conference on the Citadel, and then we could gossip face to face."

Liara's face fell a bit. "Well – not for a while, at least. I'm afraid I'm also calling to say I'll be indisposed for a little while; a couple of weeks, perhaps longer."

"Is everything okay?"

"Yes – or it will be soon. I've been particularly annoying to the Illusive Man, and Cerberus is finally following its own leads. I've been watching them close in on me, and I think that they'll find their way here before too much longer."

"Oh, Ancestors – Is there anything I can … well, no , there's nothing I can do … are you going to be okay?"

Liara laughed gently. "Yes, little sister – I'll be fine. Feron and I have plenty of time to prepare for them, and we're getting things packed up. We'll leave a little surprise for Cerberus before we leave, but I'll be wandering for a little while. I'm not sure where we'll end up quite yet, but I don't want you to worry."

"Okay. I wish you luck – make sure you kill some of those bosh'tets for me; I have to play politics and miss all the fun."

Liara grinned. "_NOW_ who sounds like Garrus?!"

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

"Admiral Zaal'Koris, may I have a word?"

"Of course, _Admiral_ Tali'Zorah."

They casually strolled away from the others at the inauguration party, leaning their heads together in deep conversation.

"Koris – how are the talks coming?"

He let out a breath. "When they brought you on, I thought for sure they'd found out – but nobody has said anything. At any rate, they go slowly. We can agree that each is a sentient race and deserving of life and home, but we both seem to feel that Rannoch is home. We've spent the last month negotiating a DMZ around the home system as a prelude to a full Quarian return."

Tali's eyes went wide. "That's wonderful! Admittedly, though, I don't know why they brought me onto the Board."

They both looked up as Admiral Xen approached, trying not to look guilty. "Admiral Xen – Zorah and I were just talking about her appointment."

"Huh? Oh, yes! Yes, I'm very honored but I'm admittedly confused. I'm not sure why I was chosen for this, and the curiosity is driving me crazy."

Admiral Xen cocked her head to the side, looking them both over. "You're the best expert on the Geth that the entire fleet has. You've faced them in combat, you've studied their communications, their thought processes – if memory serves, you've actually spoken with some of them. You know more about the Geth than even me – and I don't say that lightly." Tali shifted uncomfortably, aware that Xen had been the reigning expert until recently.

"Thank you, Admiral Xen – that's quite a compliment, coming from you. But unless we're thinking about open conflict with the Geth, I'm not sure what my expertise will be worth."

She leaned forward, conspiratorially. "Oh, you'll see very soon – your first meeting as a member of the Admiralty Board is next week."

Zaal'koris and Tali'Zorah exchanged a very uneasy glance.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

A deep chime filled the air, and the Admirals moved toward their seats. Tali walked among them, in a brand-new environment suit, trying to control her breathing. She barely heard the ritual words that opened the meeting – she was half a beat behind everyone else to nod her head, or take her seat. Shala'Raan spoke.

"This Board will come to order. We extend greeting to our newest addition, whom you met last week: Tali'Zorah vas Normandy nar Rayya, daughter of the late Admiral Rael'Zorah. She comes to us having studied command with the Human 'Commander Shepard', and with over 45 separate combat encounters with the Geth." Raan looked around the table as Tali squirmed in her seat – she was aware of the way the others were looking at her. "Obviously, she survived all her encounters. She was part of the ground team at the Battle of the Citadel, she's led dozens of survey and science missions, and she comes highly recommended by the military staff." More nodding.

"Gentlemen – we have an Admiral Zorah sitting among us again, and we now have the resources and experience to reopen the homeworld question."

Tali froze, turning to look at Shala'Raan – 'the homeworld question' couldn't mean ...

"War with the Geth?" she found herself asking. How could her voice be so calm?

Xen leaned forward. "Hardly a war! After your trial, we recovered much of the experimental technology your father was using – we hope to subvert the Geth intelligence and reclaim the homeworld without a fight."

"Bah! This question is barbaric! We created the Geth, and now we must deal with them – like any other sentient race! We must at least attempt to negotiate with them, to see if we can come to a peaceful accord!" Koris was almost pounding the table.

"Impossible!" Garrel was on his feet, looming over the others. "the Geth are a military force to be conquered, nothing more. They're overgrown farm implements, and it's high time that we recovered the homeworld."

The admirals were on their feet, shouting at each other in well-rehearsed arguments. Tali sat, forgotten, at the end of the table getting absolutely furious. They were ignoring her. They'd invited her here to use her expertise – to make war with the Geth? Very carefully, she stood up. She walked around the table, picking her footsteps deliberately – none of the others were watching her – and stood where Raan normally did. She cast an eye over the small console, then casually flicked off the lights. The room plunged into instant darkness.

The argument – incredibly – didn't stop immediately. Garrel was the first to notice; "…recision strike against the … what happened to the lights?"

The others stopped yelling and looked around – shielding their eyes from the sudden blinding flash of Tali's drone behind her. When she was sure that she had their attention, Tali brought the lights back up.

"You … have brought me here to make war on the Geth? To use me to break your deadlock? No. I'm going back to my cabin, and when you're ready to talk about this like leaders instead of children, I'll come back." She stormed out of the council chamber.

She was barely in her seat on her shuttle when she felt the fury drain out of her. She shook, wrapping herself up in her arms and chattering her teeth; she could barely get air, and her suit felt stifling. _Keelah Se'lai, how does Shepard do this all the time?_

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

When the console chimed, Tali answered quickly. Seeing Liara unharmed and smiling, she breathed a soft sigh. "I'm glad you're alright. It's been weeks since I heard from you. Your message was a little cryptic – what's going on?"

Liara smiled. "Hello to you too, sister. I'm on Mars –" she panned the camera over, showing the windblown red plains out the window behind her. "- in the Sol system."

Tali's heart lurched. "Sol – can you get in to see Shepard? Have you heard from her?"

"No, sadly – she's still under confinement. But Admiral Hackett finally got back to me, and he wanted my help. I'm here at the Mars Archives, looking through centuries of Prothean data. Hackett believes in the Reapers – so does everyone here. We're working to try to find something, anything, we can use against them when they come."

Tali fidgeted with her hands. "I can't believe you're so close to her."

"I'm sorry. If I could see her, or get a message to her, you know that I would. But now I'm well and truly stuck; I'm at the mercy of Alliance military transportation. Feron and the rest of my equipment are on the Citadel – bless him, he's doing the best he can and trying to keep me updated." A deep sigh. "I didn't even realize how used to the constant stream of information I'd gotten."

"Well, here's one data stream, from me to you. I think that very soon, the Flotilla is going to return to Tikkun, in the Veil."

Liara gasped, eyes searching Tali's. "Are you sure?"

"Not yet, but I think it's only a matter of time."

"Why now, for Goddess' sake?!"

"There is a lot of longing in the fleet right now. I guess I was too busy feeling sorry for myself, but the people are tired of being wanderers, tired of never having a home. They want a homeworld, and a good majority of them side with Gerrel in wanting _our_ homeworld." She shrugged. "Ever since I joined the board, it's gotten worse – Raan wanted me on the board to counter Gerrel and Xen, but since I'm the celebrity Geth-killer …" she trailed off, looking to Liara for guidance.

"Yes – I see the problem. I had hoped it wouldn't come to this."

"Me too, but I don't know how to stop it. Liara, if the tide turns – if we go to war – I can't abandon my people. I'll be forced to fight with everything I can." She slumped against the bulkhead, despair radiating from her. "Shepard's in prison, and everything she worked for is falling apart. The crew – scattered. The Krogan are warring on each other, still; the Geth talks are soon to be over. And I'm stuck here."

"Trapped by your responsibilities?" Liara's eyes were serious, but her voice teasing. "I know how difficult this can be, and if you need to talk I'll be here. I'm actually reachable at almost any time now – I'm Doctor T'Soni, noted Prothean scholar. Nobody cares who I talk to. It's … freeing! In a way. I might have to let Feron take over more often." She leaned forward, suddenly serious. "Speaking of whom, when and if the fleet decides to commit to this, make sure you steer purchasing contracts to him. I'll make sure he's got everything you might want and I'll do what I can to save you some money."

"Thanks – and don't stop praying for me, sister dearest. I think I'm going to need it more than ever."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

Shepard looked up as the door slid open with a muted hiss. Vega had his hands behind his back, looking sheepish. "Uh, good morning Commander."

She grinned – it had become a ritual with them. "Not supposed to call me that, James. What's behind your back?"

"Should'a known I couldn't keep anything from you." He brought his hands around, cradling a small wrapped box. "I know you grew up in the Colonies, but back here on Earth we've got a winter tradition."

"Yeah – Chrismukkah, or something?"

"Not quite, but close enough. There's a bunch of religious stuff, but the point is that we give gifts." He held up one hand. "Don't worry – I'm not expecting one from you. But you've been cooped up here for almost six months, and I figure you could use something. Go on, take it."

She crossed the room, taking the small package from him. She smiled as she carefully opened it, but her smile turned into a confused frown. She looked up from the silvery bracelet she'd revealed, searching James' face. "Uh, James? I'm flattered and all but you're … not exactly my type."

"What?! No! No, it's nothing like that. It's an omni tool bracelet – latest model from Hahne-Kedar, got a high-end flash-forging minifabricator for making instant ceramic blades."

She relaxed as she turned it over in her hands. "Omni-blade, huh? What will they think of next."

"Dunno, Commander, but it'd better be good." There was an awkward pause; he peered at her as she examined the bracelet. "So, if I'm _not_ your type …"

"It's a nice bracelet, James, and you'll never know how much I appreciate whatever you had to do to get this to me in here, but we are not having this conversation."

He held up his hands defensively. "No! Right – I gotcha. Just curious, is all."

She grinned up at him. "Yeah? Good – keep wondering." She held up the omni-tool. "Seriously, though – thanks for this. Does it have links to the outside world?"

"Yeah, but it's going through my tool. My omni-tool!" he held up his arm, pointing to the matching bracelet. "Technically, you're still under house arrest, but nobody's looking into what I do with my time. I mean, guarding that door gets pretty boring …" he grinned and shrugged one beefy shoulder. "So, as long as you're discrete, you should be okay."

Slipping the bracelet on felt … good. Like she was back where she belonged, like any second she'd be slipping on her armor harness … the smile drained from her face. She wouldn't be putting on her armor. She wouldn't be doing anything except sitting in this room, pointlessly exercising and writing her thoughts down in a futile attempt at explanation. She'd started months ago; writing to Anderson, who believed without really understanding - to Liara, who deserved to know. To Tali, who never knew about her past. Her heart clenched hard when she thought the name; she missed her, very much, but Tali couldn't love her anymore. Who would love the Butcher? Maybe if she explained … she sighed and shook her head, trying to clear her mind.

"Thanks, James – hey, I better get this all set up, okay? Chime the door after the dinner crowd dies down a bit, and we'll get some food."

She looked – defeated, James thought. Like the cat who finally realizes the window won't ever open. "Sure thing, Commander – have fun playing with it."

He was almost to the door before he heard her very soft reply. "Not supposed to call me that, James. Not anymore."

/ - / - / - / -

The December morning dawned cool and crisp. Shepard had been up for hours, plagued by dreams – THE DREAM, again – and unable to ignore the weight of the omni tool bracelet on her wrist. She hadn't tried to get out to the world, had barely even turned it on; after 6 months, she was more than a little afraid of what she'd find.

Instead she'd watched the Vancouver city traffic since waking, wondering why it felt wrong. Vega had reminded her that it was nearly the holidays – that must have been why there were so many ships moving at the spaceport, why it looked like every shuttle on the planet was moving low over the city skyline. Once, she thought she saw the distinctive hull of a cruiser, moving through the clouds – but she blinked, and it was gone. She really needed some sleep, but the sun had been up for hours.

She was leaning against the window, rewriting something on her data pad, when the door hissed open. Vega marched in, stopped, saluted briskly. "Commander."

She frowned – he seemed tense, and he had his sidearm on. Testing the water, she opened with their little ritual.

"Not supposed to call me that, James"

"Not supposed to salute, either." He dropped the salute. "We gotta go – the Defense Committee wants to see you."

Her jaw dropped minutely. 6 months of arrest, and now this? Understanding dawned – the ships, the heavy spaceport traffic. Her stomach dropped out from under her, but she forced herself to stay calm.

"Sounds serious." She copied the data from her pad to her omni tool and tossed it down. Had to stay cold. She jogged out the door and into the stream of purposefully moving troops, her blood pumping hard and strong.

/ - / - / - / -

The wind tousled her hair, cooled the blood on her cheek. The rifle in her hand felt good, heavy, familiar. She shifted, almost on instinct, as the Normandy rocked.

"I'm not going!" Anderson's voice carried across the short gap – his dress jacket was torn at the shoulder, but the rifle in his hands looked like it belonged there. "You saw those men back there – there's a million more like 'em, and they need a leader."

"We're in this fight together!"

"It's a fight we can't win – not without help! We need every species, and all their ships, to even have a _chance_ at defeating the Reapers! You have to talk to the Council – convince them to help us!"

"What if they won't listen?"

"Then _make_ them listen! Now go – that's an order!"

"I don't take orders from you anymore, remember?"

"Consider yourself re-instated … Commander!" he flung her dog tags up to her; she caught them, feeling their solid weight in her hand. She shifted again with the Normandy as she slipped the tags over her head. They settled onto her chest with a quiet clank. "You know what you have to do, Shepard!"

She nodded, chest tight – she was leaving him, probably to die. "I'll be back for you – and I'll bring every fleet I can." They exchanged a glance and she was his XO all over again. "Good luck."

She walked up the ramp as it closed behind her, checking and clearing her rifle by reflex. Rifle in hand, boots on, tags rustling against her shirt. She took a deep breath, tasting the metal tang of recycled air. It was good to be back - very very good. Vega stormed up to her, falling into step behind her.

"What the hell's going on! Where's Anderson!?" She kept walking, testing him. "Hey!"

He failed the test. "We're leaving." She called over her shoulder. She could see a small arming bench up ahead; maybe they had something for her.

"Leaving?!" Vega sounded astonished. "Yeah, what's going on?" Ashley added. Shepard looked over at her – she looked good, fit and ready. Command suited her.

"Anderson wants us to go to the Citadel – get help for the fight."

"Bullshit! He wouldn't order us to leave!"

"He can see what's going on, Vega – without help, this war's already over."

"Then you can drop me off at the nearest depot, because …"

She took one step into his personal space, her hand in his face as she growled at him. "Stuff it, lieutenant! You don't wanna go – we get it. But this isn't a democracy, and in case you hadn't noticed I've been reinstated. We're _going_ to the Citadel. You want out? You can catch a ride back from there."

She watched him storm off, turned to Ashley. "So what's it going to be, Ashley? Are you going to second guess me again, like Horizon? Or are you with me?"

Ashley looked at her, evaluating. "Look, Shepard – I'm sorry. I was wrong on Horizon, and I'm with you a hundred percent now."

They held each other's eyes; Shepard nodded minutely. "Good. Get stowed, you're my XO."

"Aye-Aye, skipper." Shepard returned her salute, and turned to the armory comm panel. It was showing the display of earth retreating behind them; just like her dream. Dozens, perhaps hundreds of Reapers descended toward Earth, speeding through the slowly falling debris; the ash of a dozen cruisers and dreadnoughts settling over the planet below. Too late – too little. Just like her dream, the Earth burned and she couldn't do a god damn thing.

"Commander!"

"Joker, that you?"

"Alive and kicking. Emergency transmission from Admiral Hackett for you."

"Patch it through!"

Panic clenched her heart every time the transmission cut out; Hackett looked like hell, but at least he was alive. "Shepard … sustained heavy losses … nmy force was overwhelming … no way we can defeat them conventionally!"

"Anderson's ordered me to the Citadel, to talk to the council."

"First, I need you …. outpost on Mars, …for we lose control of the system … researching Prothean archives … Dr. T'Soni … may have ... a way to stop the Reapers … ONLY way to stop them! … contact soon. Hackett out!"

"Joker! Set course for Mars, ahead full!"

So. Just like her dream, the Reapers had come and the Earth had fallen. But this time … she smiled, small and fierce. This time, she could fight back.


	6. The Savior

The medical bay was far too quiet without Dr. Chakwas muttering over her notes, or reading, or even just quietly drinking her tea. Shepard remembered the tea – there was a certain way she drank that seemed to invite you to join her, to relax and lay down your burdens for a while. Instead, the room was silent save for the hissing of the ventilator, the steady chirping of the monitors. Ashley lay on the exam table under a sheet; Shepard took her hand, pressed her fingers into Ash's thumb to feel her weak pulse.

"Just hold on, Ash - we're almost there."

The door hissed open, closed - Shepard lifted her head, evaluating Liara. She looked good, just like Ashley had before Mars. She looked nothing like the scared scientist stuck in the ancient machine; her armor fit her like a second skin and showed the signs of hard wear. The plates creaked quietly with her every step, and her perfect skin was still smudged with carbon streaks and dirt; she stood quietly near the door, watching Shepard. Something she saw made her stay back, leaning against the bulkhead.

"EDI says she's going as fast as she can, without compromising stealth. The Arcturus relay … Shepard, everything there was destroyed. I'm sorry."

Silence.

"Do you … want to be alone?"

She sighed, released Ashley's hand, scrubbed her hands over her face and through her hair. It was short again; too short to hide behind. Liara watched Shepard's eyes close, and finally let the concern show on her face.

Shepard looked tired, worn out; her confinement may not have taken a physical toll – she looked as fit and ready as ever – but it was obvious that she wasn't holding up very well. A glance took in the unconscious form of Ashley.

"Please, my old friend- talk to me. Tell me how you're doing."

Shepard laughed; it sounded brittle, hollow. She finally opened her eyes, looking over with a dark look. "Okay, Liara – let's talk." She leaned forward, propped herself up on one arm. "The Reapers have hit earth, and they destroy everything they touch. Anderson is back there and may already be dead. Cerberus is moving – hell, for all I know they're already indoctrinated. If Ashley didn't trust me before, she certainly won't after this." she winced "Assuming she even survives. Between being dead and being locked up, I've spent 26 months out of the past 36 doing exactly NOTHING to stop the Reapers. Nothing!"

She leaned back into her chair, watching Liara for a reaction. "So here I am – the disgraced Commander, reinstated, going to beg the useless Citadel Council for every man, ship, and scrap they can spare – to build a half-mythical Prothean weapon that may or may not ever work. So tell me, Dr. T'Soni – how do you think I'm doing?"

Her wide eyes showed sympathy as she spoke. "I think that you are exhausted and overworked. I think you have been given an immense responsibility, something that only you could accomplish. I also think that you are worried about your friends, worried about your home." She sighed, cocking a hip out and adopting a friendly lecturing tone. "In short, Commander Shepard, I think that you are going to be facing the council in less than three hours, and you need all the rest you can get. Goddess knows how they try your patience even at the best of times!" She was smiling, very slightly – getting nothing from Shepard but stony silence. Her smile dropped, eyes narrowing. "You can't help Ashley right now, and sitting up with her and worrying is only going to exhaust you."

Shepard leapt up, practically snarling at Liara. "What the hell do you want me to do, Liara? I'm trapped here, trapped on this ship and this mission. God, it's the same mission I've been on for three years!" the fury seemed to leave Shepard as suddenly as it had come; she hung her head over Ashley's still form. "No one ever listens. Nothing I do matters; I killed Sovereign, destroyed the Collectors, stopped the invasion 6 months ago – and for what?" She looked up at Liara from under her hair. "What am I even doing out here? I'm a soldier, dammit, and I don't even know what I'm fighting for." there was no more passion behind her voice – Liara started away from the wall.

"You're fighting for us, of course – your friends and crew." No reaction. "... and you're fighting for Tali."

Shepard looked up slowly, giving Liara time to watch the emotions flickering across her face in this rare moment of vulnerability. "Liara … is she … okay?"

Liara took a slow breath. "Yes. She was doing well the last time we spoke – a month ago, right after I left Hagalaaz for the Mars Archives."

Shepard let out a slow sigh. "Good. I … missed her. Missed everyone, but …" She cleared her throat, looked down at Ashley's ventilator. "There wasn't a way to get a message out to anyone. Everything I sent would have been watched, sorted, filtered … probably not delivered."

"I understand." Liara cocked her head to the side. "She misses you too, you know – she hasn't forgotten you."

Shepard's face was haunted as she searched Liara's. "How can she? She has to know by now who I am, what I've done."

"She does, but she's a grown up woman and she understands. She had months serving with you to grasp the nuance of the real world, outside the black and white confines of the Migrant Fleet. I won't speak for her, but I think she understands your decision fully, and perhaps a little more about you than she did before."

A searching look. "Truly?"

"Truly. Now come on, Commander – you need to rest. Citadel in 2 hours, 40 minutes."

Shepard smiled, very gently. "Well, you're the doctor." She allowed herself to be led out of the medbay; when the two of them reached her cabin, Shepard hesitated a moment before palming open the door. The air inside was crisp, slightly warm – and still smelled of desert spices. She closed her eyes, and took a slow breath. It was 28 December 2185

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

"Hey, wait up!" Vega spun away from the window where he'd been watching, falling into step with Shepard. She was fuming; in all the months he'd been with her, he'd never seen her this angry. "Uh, Commander? Was there any particular reason you punched that reporter?"

They stepped into the elevator – Vega winced at how hard she jabbed the keypad for the destination. She rubbed her knuckles and grinned over at him.

"Two reasons. One, she's a bitch and nothing she has to say can possibly help me - and two, it's almost a tradition with us. I wouldn't want to disappoint her."

Vega looked askance. "Uh, wow – okay. I'm glad I quit asking you questions back on the Normandy."

"Good call. So, you still want to go back to Earth?"

"If I say yes, will you punch me too?"

The doors opened onto the D-section docks. Turian and Human ships were berthed here – some of them already limping. A cruiser missing half the armor over its starboard gun shuddered into a berth next to the Normandy. Vega watched the Turian troops debarking with professional dispassion, then sighed. "Truthfully, no. I've seen what it's like here at the Citadel. Earth is already gone – but out here, there's a chance. This is where you need to be to work your magic, Commander, and I knew from the day Anderson gave me the job guarding you that I was going to be with you."

Shepard looked at him carefully. "If you really mean that, we'll get along just fine as long as you remember one thing. You started this fight a day ago; I started this fight three years ago, and it's already cost me my life once. Jump when I say hop, don't ever question my orders, and if you have something to say to me you say it in private. I'm not out to bust your balls, James – but I'm going to win this war, whatever it takes. Are we clear?"

"Yes ma'am!" he saluted, a nervous look in his eye.

"Very good Lieutenant." she returned his salute with a sudden grin. "Now I don't have to sucker-punch you."

/ - / - / - / -

"There's nothing wrong with me, is there?"

Chakwas was already running the scanner on her Omni-Tool. "No, but we should keep an eye on all those cybernetic implants Cerberus grafted into you."

"Expensive stuff, bringing me back."

"And worth every penny! Let's just make sure everything is okay."

"Only for you, Doc. But no scalpel this time."

"Alas, to my great disappointment, it is nothing invasive. I'm just going to run some tests … "The omni-tool glowed around her hand as she waved it over Shepard's body. "There. You're the picture of health. The surgery we did on your implants back in the spring seems to be taking; you've developed a lovely protein sheath around most of them."

Shepard watched her work, equally fascinated and repulsed. "I'll be honest, doc – I'm always a little nervous to really ask how much of me is me, and how much is machine."

Chakwas quirked an eyebrow. "Really. Well, you've had extensive reconstruction. Your tissues are all mostly organic, but you've got some augmentation there – synthetic dermal layers, for instance. Your skeletal structure is mostly high-strength nanomaterial alloys."

"Ha! I thought headbutting Krogan was getting too easy!"

"Yes – their plates will break before yours do. As for the rest of you – the skin and hair is all yours, and lovely if I may say so, though your eyes and other sensitive organs have either been regrown or replaced entirely. Your eyes are off-the-shelf cybernetics with some interesting shielding around them, your eardrums have been replaced, and your liver and kidneys are protein sheathes around high-efficiency blood filters and scrubbers."

"And … my brain? Heart?"

"Cerberus wanted you exactly the way you were – and they succeeded, I must say! There's nothing in your brain, except for the interface to your eyes – nothing to worry about there. Your heart is grown-tissue, for the most part – though it does have synthetic reinforcement to prevent stress tearing; your lungs are artificial respirators. You've also got some cybernetic augmentation along your major nerve clusters and of course the access points for medical care." Chakwas shrugged elaborately as the scanner turned off.

"All in all, you're still you – and still very much human, but the overall package is the most complete cybernetic enhancement I've ever seen. Augmentation like this wouldn't be possible on a live subject."

"Well … thanks for the checkup, doc. I'd better get back to it."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

Palaven hung high in the sky over Menae; it would have been pretty except for the lights of the burning cities, the flicker of the Reapers cannons, the blooms of light when an accelerator battery returned fire. The whole system was a warzone. Garrus and Shepard stood shoulder-to-shoulder as they watched a huge Reaper touch down over one of the bunkers.

"Look at that – and they want my opinion on how to stop it? Failed C-SEC officer, Vigilante, and _I'm_ their expert advisor?" his frustration bled away into a kind of resignation. "Think you can win this thing, Shepard?"

"Ha!" She turned to look him over. Same scars, same visor, but the bitterness – that was new. "I don't know, old friend, but I'm damn sure going to give it my best shot."

"Well, I'm damn sure nobody else could do it. For whatever its worth, I'm with you – just like old times, huh?"

It was a moment of normalcy – Vakarian and Shepard, saving the galaxy. She took his hand firmly; his grip was strong, just like it always was. "Welcome Aboard, Vakarian. You know where to stow your gear."

He nodded, smiling. "It'll be good to be back where I belong." He looked over at Gen … PRIMARCH Victus, watching him say goodbye to his troops, his men; Shepard followed his gaze. "We take him away from here, and there's a good chance we lose this moon."

A silence. "I know, Garrus. But if we don't have him up there, there's a good chance we lose everything." They watched the scene play out in silence for a moment before she continued. "It was like this on Earth, too – but a lot worse. What do you count, 40? 50 big Reapers, maybe another few dozen of the smaller ones? When I evacuated, there were dozens and dozens of the big ones, hundreds of the smaller ones. They hit Earth like they meant it, and the only spot of hope I have left is that they're so focused on wiping out the Humans that we might be able to rally the rest of the galaxy to make a stand."

He nodded – just once. "Yeah. We'll keep fighting here, do what we can to hold them off or at least slow them down."

She turned at the sound of crunching gravel. "Ready to go, Primarch Victus?"

"One thing, Commander …"

/ - / - / - / -

She sat at her desk, pinching her nose in her hands. EDI's shiny new body had been surprising, infuriating, and hilarious. Just what her day needed, an unshackled AI with a Cerberus assassin's body. Wonderful. It was 30 December 2185.

The chime at the terminal caught her attention, and she spun her chair back toward the console.

"Mordin! Good to see you. How are things on Sur'Kesh?"

"Shepard! Heard you had been released, glad to see you in one piece. Sur'Kesh is frantic. Despite warnings, government entirely unprepared for Reaper invasion – fortunately, military at least a little ready. Managed to get 4 dreadnoughts upgraded before invasion hit – doubt we'll have time to finish number 5." He looked her over with a practiced glare, blinking. "But didn't call to chat. Got your message – interesting problem."

She nodded with a grimace. "Yeah, that's one way of putting it."

"Understand frustration – heard about Earth, too. Apologies."

"No, it's alright – we need to focus on getting this done. Any ideas?"

"Agreed, and yes. Recall that I kept Maelon's data? Well, found Krogan female naturally immune to Genophage. In Salarian custody right now, but have … leaked … to Urdnot Wrex. Imagine he'll demand release soon – with you to mediate, could broker 'spontaneous' goodwill effort to provide cure." He lifted a datapad into view. "Have been working on that, but need much more data to proceed."

She grinned. "Mordin, you've just made my day. I'm en-route to a summit, bringing the new Turian Primarch to meet the Dalatrass and, probably, Wrex. Make sure he knows about the female before we meet – he can put extra pressure on the Dalatrass."

"Of course, Shepard. Now – listen to medical advice?"

Her eyes narrowed. "Perhaps."

"Good. Get some sleep – look like you've been fighting non-stop, need to look diplomatic for talks."

She leaned back in her chair, scrubbing a hand over her face. "Yeah, thanks Mordin – you're the 8th person to tell me that today."

"Good! Then rest now. Will handle everything while you sleep."

/ - / - / - / -

_Tali was cool against her skin, slick with the faintly floral smell of the Mordin's gel. The pressure was building; Shepard threw her head back and groaned, long and low with pleasure. She opened her eyes, rocking on Tali's deft fingers, biting her lip, building again …_

_Tali leaned in and kissed her, whispering softly against her lips. "Butcher." she smiled. "Murderer"_

Shepard woke with a start, body trembling and head aching. Tali again. Between this dream and the Reapers, she hadn't had a peaceful night's sleep in two months, maybe three. She pulled the covers aside and hugged her legs to her chest, breathing slowly and trying to remember her lovers real smile.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

The Citadel was as unperturbed as it had been last time. The new Primarch was meeting with his Councilor, the Normandy was taking on supplies, and the crew had 26 hours of leave. Shepard stopped in at the gift shop in Huerta Memorial before flashing her ID badge at the security checkpoint and moving toward Ashley's room. The door hissed open, just in time to catch the tail end of Udina's lecture.

Ash looked terrible – but alive. She was off the machines, breathing and talking – and typing, judging from the message she'd received – all on her own. She found herself making small talk automatically, until Ash shifted uncomfortably.

"The nurse said you checked in on me earlier – still out cold, I guess.

"We … didn't really have time to talk last time. I thought, maybe if you were up for it ..."

"Yeah!" she elbowed her way up to a sitting position. "I wasn't sure you wanted to. You were pretty clear, on Mars, about where things stood."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you're not a part of Cerberus anymore – case closed, full stop."

Shepard goggled. "It's the truth!"

"Okay, you cut all ties. I accept that." Ashley searched Shepard's face. "It's just that … if you're giving the orders, I need to be able to count on you."

Shepard sat back in her chair, sighing. "Ashley, I'd love to be able to reassure you – but I can't. If there's one thing I've learned, it's that you can't count on anyone. It always – ALWAYS – comes down to what you think is right, and to hell with everyone else."

"I … I think I get that." she hung her head, fidgeting with her sheets. "I guess … that's what you were doing with Cerberus in the first place."

"Yeah. I'm not gonna lie, Ash, you really threw me for a loop on Horizon. I thought I'd be able to count on you, like old times – and you blew me off."

"Shepard ..." she held up a hand, cutting Ashley off. "No, Ash, it's okay – see, I was angry but you had to do what you thought was right – just like I did." She watched Ash's face, nodding once at what she saw. "It's the first rule of being a Spectre – and I think you'll do just fine."

Ash's smile was weak. "Yeah? Thanks, skipper – that means a lot."

"Oh! Here, I picked this up for you." Shepard handed over her purchase; a decorative datapad loaded with the works of various poets. "I figured you had some down time." Their fingers brushed; Shepard twitched away, turning to look out the window. Ashley laid aside the book, took Shepard's hand.

"Hey. It means a lot, you coming to see me. Especially given our history, I figured you'd be the last person to darken my door - but here you are."

She quirked a smile. "Yeah, well … I missed you – really could have used you last year, but more than that it would have been nice to be with a friend again." A startled sound made her look down – she'd been brushing her thumb over Ash's knuckles. A deep blush filled her cheeks as she carefully disengaged her hand. She was opening her mouth to apologize … "Hey. Don't worry about it!"

"Sorry, I was … ah, worry about what?"

"Shepard." the name was flat – Ashley's face had fallen to an almost teasing glare. "Look, we never really got to deal with this – Saren, Citadel, then … well, we were always too busy. But I've had three years to think about what to say to you, and while you're here I'm going to guilt you into listening."

Shepard looked anguished, leaning back into her chair with her arms across her chest. "Okay ..."

She cleared her throat, weakly, before continuing. "You came on to me, I turned you down. End of story. You're still my CO, I'm still serving with you. I hope we can still be friends, but if we are then we've got to be cool. No weirdness, okay?"

Shepard looked startled, then laughed – finally relaxing. "You really had me going there, Ash. And yeah – I really need a friend. Forgive me?"

"Nothing to forgive." it was the strongest statement she'd made all day.

They sat a while – Ashley's family, Shepard's misadventures, war progress. When the nurses came in with the tray of pills, Shepard stood to go. "Hey, I'd better go – see you around, yeah?"

"I'd like that." Ashley grinned, looking almost back to normal. "And next time, you can tell me about Tali."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

The huge bulk of Wrex almost blocked the view of the stars outside. They had stormed out of the conference room with Victus after the disastrous meeting with the Dalatrass, and had taken refuge in the port-side lounge. Victus had gone back to his quarters, leaving the two of them alone. Leaning casually over the railing, they looked like two old friends catching up.

"Shepard." one gleaming eye rolled over her. "You look like hell."

"Thanks, Wrex, that means a lot coming from you. Surprised you didn't take the time to get even uglier, just for this occasion."

"Oh, I was going to! Figured I'd let one of the little maws outside our compound really tear into me but … oh, that's right, you and Grunt killed the last one for miles."

"Heh. Missed you too."

"I didn't think they'd ever let you out. Grunt filled me in on the details about the Relay; hard choice. But you did what you had to do, like always."

A slow sigh. "Yeah. Like I always do."

He watched her for a moment. "I wanted to say thanks for introducing me to your Salarian friend. With his help, we've managed to put enough pressure on the Salarians to get this far, and it looks like you're going to take us the rest of the way. Now that we're this close, I feel confident enough to admit that for a time I didn't think it was going to work."

"Hell, Wrex, neither did I."

/ - / - / - / -

A long – strained – sigh as she stood in the medbay, watching Mordin work. He'd certainly wasted no time, and after Shepard had finished her extremely disconcerting conversation with Eve, had begun working immediately. She leaned her head back against the bulkhead and closed her eyes – the very quiet strains of Gilbert and Sullivan floated around her. It was the middle of the second watch, 3 January 2186.

"Shepard. Never shown this much interest in work. Would wait for you to tell me why you're here, but am going to need equipment next to you soon."

She laughed then, quietly. "Of course, I couldn't just be here to catch up with an old friend."

"Sentimental. Good thing previous experience with you taught me to talk and work at same time."

"A very useful skill, when dealing with humans. I wanted to congratulate you – your performance at the STG base was inspired."

"Yes – was still under surveillance. If we win, want to be able to retire with honor – couldn't admit that previous 7 months was elaborate charade. Worse to admit it was done for benefit of Krogan."

"I understand, believe me."

They talked for a bit – about retirement plans, of all things! – before he shooed her away.

"Need to focus, Commander – but thank you. Haven't had friendly conversation like this in weeks."

"I bet. Thanks – I'll get out of your way."

"Yes. And Shepard?" he made sure she had turned back to look before resuming his work. "Have developed new variation on my cross-species gel – will make sure some gets up to your quarters." She could swear she saw him smile as she flushed bright red.

/ - / - / - / -

The heat of the main battery room was oppressive – Garrus had stripped off his armor and was half-buried in the back of the main stator when Shepard entered.

"Whoever that is, hand me that spanner!"

She dropped it into his outstretched hand, grinning – and when he came up for air, blinking in surprise, she outright laughed.

"You should see your face, Garrus."

"Shepard – didn't expect you to be down here right now. Figured you'd still be refereeing the showdown upstairs."

"Well, I would be – except that Mordin made it very clear that he's got too much work to do on this cure. He's saying at least a week – maybe longer – before we'll have something."

His face hardened. "A week before Palaven gets Krogan reinforcements?"

She held up her hands. "I know – I know, believe me. But Wrex is adamant, and I have to say that I don't blame him. Mordin may be one of the only Salarians both capable of and willing to cure this thing – which means nobody can leave the ship. Right now, the Normandy is the safest place in the Galaxy."

"Right. Well, if we've got a week to kill, what do you recommend?"

"Work – hard, brutal, on-the-ground work. I'm sure you know that Cerberus is moving?"

"Ah, our old friends – how nice of them to show up to this party, on the wrong side as usual."

She grinned, shrugged a shoulder. "Well, I admit that I'm itching for a fight. So we're going to cruise around and mess things up for them while Mordin does his thing. I don't know what kind of resistance we're going to find, so I need to make sure that you're not in here 'Calibrating' …" big air quotes, to match the smile on her face "… when we need to put down some fire."

He looked hurt. "Shepard, please! It's not my fault Joker slings this tub around like that – knocks everything out of alignment."

"Uh huh. I also need you for something else. With Ashley on medical, I need an XO."

The grin dropped into a sickened look. "Oh no … no no no. Having an Anti-Reaper task force was enough, I'm not suited to command."

Her smile was downright predatory. "Sure you are, Garrus! I trained you, didn't I? Just keep thinking about what I'd do, and you'll be just fine."

"You're making a big mistake, I'm the LAST person who should be in charge when you're not around!"

"Vakarian!" she suppressed a laugh at the way he snapped to attention. "It's final – you're my XO, and no more whining. I need someone the Primarch will take seriously in a position of responsibility here, to lessen the human-first aura that people think I have."

A deep – heavy – sigh escaped him, his mandibles twitching. "Fine, Shepard – have it your way. But don't blame me when it all goes to hell."

"Alright, I won't. But as of right now, it's officially your job to make sure it doesn't."

"You're a cold, cruel woman Shepard – that's what I've always liked about you."

She spun, leaned up against the tool bench on the portside bulkhead. "Yeah, I was born frozen. So … how _did_ you end up on Menae?"

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

"Good morning, Specialist." She nodded to Traynor, ascending the short steps up to her post. Pushing up from the railing, she leaned into her arms – surveying her ship. The Turian design had never quite felt right – she always felt like she should be up in the bridge with Joker – but standing over the galaxy map was a tremendous feeling of freedom. She closed her eyes; took one slow, careful breath – holding the moment in her mind.

"Commander, I've found something suspicious. Do you have a minute to take a look?"

Moment over.

/ - / - / - / -

Joker's diversion had been … perfect. The rest of the plan, less so. She gingerly fingered the cut on her cheek as she rode back to the Normandy with a shuttle-full of Grissom Academy students. It was 5 January 2186.

Sanders was looking over the kids, unsmiling. "I'd hoped to use them in support roles, but … maybe they're ready."

Shepard nodded, favoring Jack with a tight smile. "Damn right they are. These kids might not be ready for the big leagues, but if Professor Jack here doesn't mind, I've got a series of warm-up exercises for them."

"Name the place, Shepard – we're ready." Jack had a feral smile.

She tipped her head to the side, led Jack up into the cockpit. Immediately, the students turned to hammer Vega and Liara with questions.

"So Jack – regretting your decision yet?"

A loud snort. "Hell no, Shepard! I may not have thought it was the best idea at first, but these kids … they're like family to me. I actually care about them. Me! Caring about people! Crazy, I know."

Shepard frowned. "Jack, you know what's ahead for these kids – they've got to be weapons, just like you. The Reapers are wiping the floor with us, even in what passes for conventional ground-battles. We need every edge we can get, and your biotic artillery squad here might be it. I hope you're not going to let your feelings get in the way of that."

Jack leaned up against the shuttle hull, watching Shepard with narrow eyes. "Hey, I may be a teacher by title, but I'm still a damn soldier. You showed me that I'm a weapon, and a damn good one – and I'm showing those kids. I'm not going to throw them away, but I'm not going to wrap 'em in gauze either."

"Good. Then how about some nice soft targets for warmup?"

"What did you have in mind?"

She grinned. "How would you like to get more payback against Cerberus?"

/ - / - / - / -

They were standing around the large display in the War Room – Traynor sat at the controls, highlighting each target as Shepard spoke.

"Okay. Thanks to EDI and Traynor here, we've taken the intel Admiral Hackett gave us about the reports of Cerberus activity and isolated some likely targets. Jack here has generously agreed to loan us some biotic artillery, so we're going to hit them hard and fast, right where they live. So far, we've found a communications hijacking station, a couple of fighter wing bases, and what looks like a research lab."

Victus looked pissed. "You're going to be fighting your own civil war while Palaven burns?"

She turned to Garrus, who sighed. "Primarch, please. Commander Shepard is doing the most good she can with her very limited time. Professor Solus is working night and day on adapting Eve's mutation to the rest of the Krogan, but it's not an instantaneous process. We need him to finish that before we can do anything else – but in the meantime we can be doing some good out there."

Victus grunted, but leaned back in silence.

"Thank you, XO." Shepard nodded. "Now, if we start by hitting this fighter base here, it'll take cover off of this research outpost …"

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

Mordin had found her at the aft mess table shortly after ships "dawn" that morning, pouring over decrypt reports from the Cerberus comm facility dump. He'd let her know that he was almost ready, that he needed a stop at the Citadel for some specialized equipment. She'd promised to dock as soon as she'd checked out on last lead they found in the Cerberus computers. As she stood side-by-side with an actual Prothean soldier, looking out over the half-buried ruins that marked the lost Prothean city, the conversation seemed distant, already hazy.

"We call this world 'Eden Prime', after a legend in our mythology. A paradise, untouched by troubles."

His voice was smooth, deep. "And how has your legend fared against the Reapers and their pawns, Human?"

She said nothing; the shifting wind brought the smoke from the burning buildings drifting out over the picture-perfect valley. It was early afternoon, 17 January 2186.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

She stood at the airlock, frowning at her crew. "Okay, boys and girls, shore leave. One – count them …" she held up a single finger "… ONE night. My omni says it's 14:10 GST. This ship is leaving the Citadel in exactly fifteen hours and twenty minutes. If you're not at launch quarters by then, you'll very quickly find yourselves in the C-SEC brig until we swing through again."

Even 15 hours off ship was a treat for them, and she knew it. With a smile, she stepped aside. "Okay. Crew, ten-shun!" two dozen boots clicked together. "Dismissed!" She leaned against the repel-boarders locker as they streamed past; when the last of them had gone, she nodded to Joker and EDI then followed them out.

/ - / - / - / -

She grinned at Ashley's face. "Yes, you can accept it – and you're going to. Call it a 'congratulations on being a Spectre' present."

Ashley was up and about – moving a little gingerly, but moving. In true Williams style, she was already back in uniform. In her hands was a torn and faded – but still readable – printed book; 'Notable Human Poets – Volume 3'.

"Shepard – thank you. This means a lot to me."

She grinned, shrugged a shoulder. "Least I could do."

They talked for a little while, but when Shepard moved to leave Ash interrupted with a smile. "Hey, you're not going anywhere – I've caught you up on my family, now you're going to do the same." At her confused look, Ashley laughed. "Tali! Tell me about Tali!"

She was treated to the sight of her old friend blushing. "Ash … how did you even find out?"

"Oh, I have my ways. Now spill! I mean, after Virmire I knew which way your wind blew, but a Quarian? Wild!" she was laughing, leaning back against her glass window.

Shepard shook her head, smiling. "Okay, I'll tell you – but this absolutely does not leave this room."

Ashley mimed zipping her lips shut as Shepard sat on her bed. "Well, it kinda started on the Citadel, right after Saren …"

/ - / - / - / -

She left, two hours later, having given the breathlessly excited Ashley an embarrassingly complete accounting of her relationship. It had been … good. Friendly, no awkwardness – though she flush all over at the level of detail Ashley required. It was nice to get the old Shepard / Williams groove back.

She made her way through the hospital, noticing the overflowing wards. Turians and Humans, mostly – but here and there a Drell, Salarian, Asari. It was a lot worse than the last time she had been here.

In the front patient lobby, she stopped – surveying the room, looking for a friend. Next to a large picture window, and inexplicably alone, she found him. Wordlessly, she settled into the seat next to him.

"Hello, Shepard." Thane's voice rasped out, a little weaker than she remembered. They spoke as friends, catching up – it was early evening, 18 January 2186.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

Wrex looked pained as he turned around. "Shepard, thanks. I just got word from my people – some of our scouts have gone missing, around the Rachni relay."

She bit off the joke she was going to make, and frowned. "Rachni? Can't be. I watched the queen die."

"Yeah, thought that might get your attention. Anyway, against my better judgement I'm asking you to take us to investigate. I'll have Arlekh company meet us there – my best men."

"Are you sure? Mordin says he's in final testing on the cure. Thought you'd be more concerned about that."

Wrex speared her with a glare. "I'm worried about my people, Shepard, but I'm not stupid. If it's the rachni again, we can't afford a two front war. We need to clean them out, fast and hard."

She held up a hand, sighing. "Okay. Get your men in position, we'll divert for the relay immediately." She had barely turned away before she was calling out to EDI.

/ - / - / - / -

"Raaaagh!"

"Hooargh!"

Shepard and Grunt charged each other from two meters, meeting in the middle with a heavy crash, their heads knocking together. She grinned, carelessly wiping away the blood from her split forhead. "Good to see you, Grunt – you're looking good."

"Thank you, Battlemaster! It's been too long, but Urdnot has been good to me." He gestured expansively. "My troops …" the pride in his voice was impossible to miss " … and I are ready."

She nodded, shouldering her rifle. "Let's get this done."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

She was in her cabin, laying out on the sofa, still wearing half her armor. She looked at her hand – she could almost feel the phantom grip of Mordin's last embrace. He'd done what he had to do, and she'd let him. Now, another friend was dead.

Eventually, she sat up and reached for a datapad; the journal she'd started writing back on Earth, still going. Still written for Tali, though she'd never said so; for Ashley in case the worst happened. _I lost a friend today, _she wrote, _he died doing what he had to do. Just like I've always done, just like I warned you I would. He went to his death with a determined smile and a light step – will I go as smoothly when my time comes? Will I face my death as calmly?_

She sat up late into the artificial night, writing and hoping. It was 23 January 2186.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

She stood in Thane's hospital room, listening to his labored breathing. She ached; another life laid at her feet, another death on her conscience. She took a breath – he did what he had to do. Just like Mordin. Just like her.

"Will you pray with me?" She nodded. Kolyat had produced a prayer book, offering to share it with her. She cleared her throat and began to recite.

"Kalahira, this one's heart is pure, but beset by wickedness and contention."

_Butcher_

"Guide this one to where all hunters return, where all storms become still, where all stars show the path."

_Murderer_

"Guide this one, Kalahira, and she will be a companion to you as she was to me."

She watched him turn away, saw his chest still, his face ease – there was no more pain, not for him.

"Why did the last verse say 'she'?"

"The prayer was not for him, Commander. His wish was for you."

She stood next to him and hung her head. _It's too late for me, Thane. Far too late to undo the choices I've made. Too late to be anything but what I am._ She turned the prayer book over in her hands, opened it – began reciting in a quiet but clear voice.

"Kalahira, Mistress of inscrutable depths … I ask forgiveness …"

/ - / - / - / -

Ashley was waiting at the Normandy dock, seabag in hand, looking torn. "Hey, Commander."

"Commander? You must want something." Shepard smiled, trying to inject a little lightness – Ashley winced, then nodded.

"Yeah, actually. I came to ask if I could ship out with you, even after everything that happened here …"

She scrubbed a hand over her face. "Look, Ashley – you're a damn good soldier, and I understand why you pulled your piece on me. But are you sure this is where you want to be? We're trying to do the impossible here." Her face got hard for a moment. "We can't ever afford to stand and fight, and we rarely do better than survive."

Williams studied her, looking her over critically. She was tired – bone tired, and it showed. "I know, skipper – but I'm with you, if you'll have me. I promised back on Earth, didn't I?"

A very small smile. "Yeah you did, didn't you." She squared her shoulders and gestured to the hatch. "Okay, Williams, you're on. Grab a bunk in the officers berthing and say hi to XO Vakarian for me."

Ha! That got a reaction. "No. You didn't!"

She grinned. "I did. He hated it, but with you out on medical …"

Ashley held up her hands, placating. "No no, I get it. Don't worry about me. This just means I can get back to what I do best."

"Good to hear."

She looked contemplative as they walked up the gangplank together. "Jeez, I can't believe I drew on you."

"You're a Spectre now, Ash – you have to make the hard choices." _Just like me._

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

She dropped onto the couch, looking out over the bar. Purgatory – what a predictable name.

"So, Aria – you were supposed to deliver me mercenaries, materiel, and supplies. What happened?"

There was no hiding the venom in her voice. "Cerberus happened."

A quiet nod. "Yeah, that's been going around."

"I have a plan, though."

"I never doubted you, Aria. Let's hear it."

She grinned for the first time that day. "Okay, but you're not going to like it."

/ - / - / - / -

Shepard held her head upright, ignoring the little twinges in her collarbones. If she rested her head against the shuttle, it'd rattle; the heap she was crammed into made her long for her own dropship, her own pilot, her own ship. How she'd let herself get roped into coming alone … and with Aria, no less. Liara was going to have some choice things to say when she got back. Shepard stifled a quick grin; her XO must be furious by now.

"Okay, Aria – you've bounced me through half this nebula. Are you taking me for a joyride, or to your fleet?"

"Patience, Commander – I think you'll be impressed."

/ - / - / - / -

"Zaeed! Rotten old bastard, what are you doing out here?" She clasped his hand tightly, smiling in genuine pleasure. She looked him over – he was in a dull gray hardsuit, but managed to swagger even through the composite ceramics. "You look good, at least."

"Well, working suits me." he turned and gestured at the troops and gunships lining the hangar bay behind him. "These jacks used to be pitiless, brainless mercs. Then you hired me to whip them into shape for Aria, and here we are. Now they're soldiers, just like the Blue Suns used to be." He grinned, just for a moment. "You wanted an army, Commander? I've got two full battalions here, trained and equipped, ready to deploy."

She sat back on her heels, whistling in spite of herself. "Well, Aria – you were right. I am impressed." She started walking, noticing Zaeed falling in beside her. "You've done good work here, Zaeed – your troops are going to get their first taste of the Reaper war fighting Cerberus off Omega station."

"Is it true that they've been turned into husks?"

"Eh, not quite – not all the way, but most of them have been upgraded. We weren't sure what their motivations were in the beginning, but we now know that the Illusive Man is either indoctrinated or even dumber than we thought."

A grunt from Zaeed. "Well, never trust a man in a suit I always say." He leered up and down Aria – still dressed in her clubbing leathers. "Whatever passes for armor around here is much better."

She smiled sweetly at him, blowing an exaggerated kiss; when she opened her hand, Zaeed had a split second to turn from the glow her biotics before she knocked him backward. It was just after the end of first watch, 5 February 2186.

/ - / - / - / -

Her eyes were closed - lips whispering together, hands on each other's waist, pressed full length against one another. Even through the armor plates, Shepard thought she could feel her warmth; she slipped her hands up under the edge of that short jacket, teasing the warm skin barely contained by the black leather. Such a contrast – the leather was soft, cool, silken smooth; the flesh was warm, almost hot – firmly muscled, and gently textured. She could feel a small moan starting in her throat as she and Aria kissed like lost lovers.

_Lovers …_ the thought drifted over her mind as she separated from Aria. The kiss had been a very pleasant surprise; Aria, after crunching General Petrovsky's throat and spine with her own hands, pounced on Shepard for a toe-curling, gut-searing kiss. She licked her lips involuntarily – Aria tasted good, like smoke and leather. She watched Aria carefully, waiting for her to open her eyes.

"Mmm … I always thought you'd be a good kisser." Her eyes opened; they were jet black, her veins leaping in her neck. "I'm going to enjoy this …"

Shepard put up a hand to stop her as she took a step closer. "Aria … no."

A low, throaty laugh. "No? That's not what your hands were saying." She shrugged the jacket off her shoulders, slowly closing her arms behind her to let it slip to the floor. "That's not what your eyes are saying …" she reached for Shepard's armor harness, blinked in surprise when Shepard caught her wrist.

"No, Aria. I'm sorry – that was fun, but I'm on a tight schedule."

Shocked. "You're turning me down? Bold, Shepard – very bold." She snatched her arm back, rolled her head on her shoulders; long, perfect neck … Shepard shook herself and took another step back.

In an instant, Aria's cold mask was back – eyes normal, pulse under control. She was all business. "Alright, play it your way. You gave me Omega back, and for that you have my momentary gratitude – and yes, the troops and resources I promised you. You just tell me where to send it all."

Shepard nodded, swallowed once – Aria's hands on her hips pushed her chest out deliciously. "Good. I'll get coordinates to you once I'm back on the Normandy. Now let's get the hell out of here."

With a predatory smirk, Aria glided toward the main docking arm.

/ - / - / - / -

Garrus had yelled, quite a bit – Liara fumed in silence, her icy stare like an accusation. Shepard took their rebukes calmly all the way up to her cabin; she palmed open the lock, walked through, closed it on them. A few taps, and the door was sealed.

She dropped her helmet onto the table and stood there, staring at it. She'd kissed Aria. She'd deeply, deeply wanted to continue; her hands still burned with the heat of that blue skin. She ached to feel something other than the constant frustration, the pressure of constant demands, the ever-present headache beating on her temples. Anything …

She dropped onto the sofa and took a deep breath – another – calming her heartbeat. It was just one kiss. Tali wasn't even a part of her life. One kiss, that's not cheating. Who could she be cheating on? One kiss.

Unbidden, a memory rose to her mind: Ashley, last time they'd spoken, teasing her about Tali.

"_You've got it bad for her, skipper. You really love her?"_

"_Yeah … god, I think I do."_

_She whistled. "Well, I wish you the best of luck – military romances don't often work out; doubly so for cross-species."_

"_Heh. Thanks for the vote of confidence, Williams."_

She looked down at her hands; Aria's skin had been so soft. She took a deep breath, trying to suppress the pangs of guilt and loneliness. _Where are you, Tali?_

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

The news had spread like wildfire through the cramped ship. Everyone had big knowing grins; leering winks were exchanged like old Morse signals. Down in the Hangar, Williams held court; the techs huddled around Ken and Gabby in engineering. Garrus, Joker, and EDI were all giving each other looks.

They were transiting to the Tikkun System.

_Hackett had given the order two days ago, after yet another lightning strike on yet another research lab. Or was it a fighter wing? Maybe it was a Reaper-occupied colony whose troops or supplies or knowledge or ancient fucking artifact the crucible absolutely NEEDED. She was tired of fighting and running, and said so – when Hackett filled her in, she barely managed to keep the big stupid grin off her face before signing off._

_Shepard strolled out of the War Room – completely ignoring Traynor – and ascended the steps to her post. A quick keystroke, and the galaxy map was replaced by the shipboard reporter; another keypress, and the boatswain's whistle sounded over the speakers._

"_Attention all hands, this is the Commander. We are altering course for the Perseus Veil. Make ready for relay transit." A short tone, and the speakers cut out – Shepard was already in the elevator, heading up to her cabin._

_The gossip had started IMMEDIATELY._

/ - / - / - / -

She was leaning against the glass enclosure of the conference room, watching Tali pace. Well, watching her hips – each step had a certain rhythm, as if her walk was a dance. Had she always been this way? Her eyes drank in the sleek lines of her suit – armored, she noted, and reinforced for combat. Even under composites, Shepard could pick out the smooth lines of muscle she remembered so well.

"So … an admiral?"

"It's mostly a formality." She shrugged one beautiful shoulder. "I'm an expert on the Geth, and I've had the honor of serving under you." She said it straight-faced; Shepard recrossed her legs. Tali stopped, looked over her shoulder. "I'm … glad you're here."

A plaintive note. "Why didn't you tell me? I would have come for you."

"I knew you had your own troubles to worry about. I'm … I'm sorry about Earth."

Shepard's jaw fell momentarily as Tali continued. "We've got the largest fleet in the Galaxy – and to prepare for this war, they've all been upgraded with at least cruiser-level weaponry. If you help us, we'll hit the Reapers with everything we've got … or however much is left from this stupid war."

_Okay – I can do business first._ "I thought we had a plan about this, Tali – what happened?"

A harsh laugh. "Popular opinion happened. We admirals argued about it endlessly, but public disagreement would divide the fleet – something we must avoid at all costs. In the end, Admiral Raan cast the final vote, and we went to war."

"What about Korris?!" Shepard hissed "What about the peace talks!"

Tali shook her head, shoulders slumping. "We betrayed them. Korris was still in talks when the admirals made their decision. He couldn't even warn them – Ancestors, I don't know if we can ever have peace now."

Shepard pushed away from the glass, pacing furiously. "Tali – this has got to stop. I need every ship, every gun to fight the Reapers. The Alliance has a kind of weapon, some ancient Prothean device, that we think will kill the Reapers; the Geth could build it in a week. I need them!"

A momentary hitch in her breathing; Tali raised her head. "And me?"

She bit her lip. "Tali …"

Raan chose that moment to enter. "Ah, Commander Shepard – so good to see you again. I was glad when Admiral Hackett informed me of your imminent arrival."

A forced smile. "Admiral Raan – the pleasure is all mine. Admiral Zorah and I were just discussing the Geth war."

"Really? I don't have to imagine how Tali feels, but what about you? I understand you've had plenty of experience fighting the Geth."

"I had hoped for peace, Admiral." Her smile vanished. "The Quarians and Geth have been at this too long. Now is the time to settle old disputes, bury rusted old hatchets. Hell, even the Turians and Krogan are getting along – and that dispute is three times as old as the Geth."

Raan bowed her head. "We cannot divide the fleet, Commander – the people wanted this fight, and we could not deny them."

"Well, they've got it – how are they liking it now?" Shepard spat the words, eyes flashing. "I'll assemble a team to help you clear out that dreadnought, Admiral. Good day."

She turned to leave, stopping only when Tali placed her hand on the commander's arm. "Commander, perhaps I could meet with you later, to discuss our assault? I'll need to go over your team rosters with you."

Calm. Cold. "Of course, Admiral. Shall we meet in my cabin in half an hour?"

"That would be lovely." Her voice was smooth as silk.

"I'll see you then … Miss vas Normandy." She stalked away, but not before seeing Tali give a tiny shiver.

/ - / - / - / -

There was still some condensation on her display case when the door chimed. She was back in her uniform, hair still wet from her shower. "Enter!" she called out.

Tali slipped into the room, looking nervous. She glanced at every corner of the room before she started down the steps to where Shepard was rising from her seat.

"Thanks for asking me up, Shepard – I couldn't talk freely in front of Raan."

"I understand. Are you … okay?"

"No." she sighed heavily "I'm really not. They put me in charge of the civilian fleet, with Korris; 17 million lives are riding on me, and I don't know if I can save them."

Shepard smiled slowly. "Hey, you and I both know that if there's a way, you'll figure it out."

"Thanks … but I feel like I'm bluffing. Trying to convince the others that the admiral's daughter knows what she's doing."

"Not the admiral's daughter. The ADMIRAL. You earned it, or they wouldn't have offered it to you."

A short chuckle – Shepard's heart clenched at the favorite sound. "It's partially your fault, you know – they gave me the position because I'd spent so much time fighting the Geth with you. I took their offer because I thought I could help you."

She started to speak, but Tali held up a hand. "You've given up so much – stood for too long without allies. Your own government imprisoned you!" there was real fury in her voice, trembling through the modulator. "I … I wanted to keep your plans moving. And if you ever got out, I wanted you to have a strong ally that you could count on for once." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "I didn't want you to be so alone."

Shepard took a step closer, lacing her fingers in with Tali's outstretched hand. "Tali … I've missed you. So much. I need you – my friend, my … my partner …" she stumbled over the words, searching Tali's eyes, trying to make out her face through the visor. "I want you here, with me."

Tali turned her head, looking into Shepard's eyes, breath short, voice tight. "Keelah, Shepard, I don't want to be your partner - I want to be your lover. I … I'll beg if you want me to ..."

She bit her lip, nodded once. Tali stepped away, sealed her forearms, detached her gloves. She lifted her arms, showcasing the metal cuffs that still lived on her wrists. "Please, Captain … come and claim me again. Make me yours again."

With a low growl, Shepard reached for Tali. Off came the visor, and her breathing stopped for a moment as she drank in Tali's face. "Beautiful – I'd almost forgotten." Tali stepped close, pressing full length against Shepard's body, smashing their lips together in a furious kiss. Her hands weren't idle – she teased her long fingers over Shepard's hips, up her back, finding the line of her bra and following it back to her glorious breasts. Shepard hissed in pleasure, pressing into those kneading, teasing hands – uniform buttons unsnapping, she slipped her arms free, never breaking her kiss, before grasping Tali by the shoulders and spinning her around.

They paused for a moment – breathing hard, bodies shaking. Shepard slowed her hands, making each motion a tease. Release the seal, slide it ever so carefully open. Peel back the suit, a section at a time. A bared shoulder – her teeth sinking into that cool, pale skin. Tali's cry of pleasure, Shepard's hands pushing the suit lower; kneeling, unfastening the legs, peeling the suit down and off.

"Shepard … _Eleh_, please …"

She took her time – kissing Tali's waist, playing with the delicate lace of her undergarments – a little fetish she'd talked Tali into. She bit the barely-covered skin, sucking gently – then harder, hands on Tali's hips, digging her fingers into her hipbones, finding the nerves with her nails. She tugged, shredding the lace and tossing it aside as she kissed and licked over her lover's dimpled back. Slowly, Shepard rose up – tongue following the long smooth curve of Tali's spine, barely conscious of the girl moaning in her arms; dragged her hands up her ribs and cupped her chest, teasing the tight nipples with light fingers before spinning her back and pushing her onto the bed.

She looked down – remembering the first time, seeing the heat blooming along Tali's body. The naughty girl started rocking – teasing herself with her hands while Shepard ripped off her clothing. Leaving the shreds on the floor, she pounced onto the bed, settling over Tali's hips – grinding into the still-moving hand, dipping her head to capture a pale breast with her teeth. She felt Tali cry out – felt the first shudders of orgasm moving through her lover. She kissed quickly over her throat, up her neck, whispering in her ear. "Not yet, Miss vas Normandy. Not yet."

Strained. "Keelah, please … Shepard …

A low purr. "Sit up."

Tali groaned, pulled her hand away panting. She pushed up from the bed, lifting into an almost-sitting position as Shepard rearranged herself – she broke into a grin as Tali's face took on a look of pained concentration. A finger, gently teasing those stiff lips – a shuddering hiss as Tali's frown deepened. She started to rock – memory crashing over her, their 'date' on the Normandy's cargo deck, riding her hard – slipping her so-wet sex over Tali's, grinding in tight circles, fingers spreading them both open as she rode her lover's body. She shifted, pulled Tali close – kissing her so softly, so sweetly, whispering over her lips "Not yet … oh … not … not yet …"

Tali's teeth were clenched. "Please … oh! So close … _Eleh, _please, I … I need …"

With a hard thrust, Shepard buried her fingers in her own tightness, rocking her knuckles into Tali, panting, breath hitching, so close … with a long shudder, she moaned into Tali's lips as her climax broke over her. "Nowww … oh, …" another hitch as Tali exploded, throwing her head back as she screamed out her pleasure. Her hips twitched, and Shepard came again, lips and teeth finding her neck, sucking so sweetly as she quietly panted through her orgasm. They stilled slowly, twitching and shivering, breath coming short and hard. As their breathing slowed, Shepard pulled away, urging Tali onto her side as they curled together on the bed.

She was nibbling her lips over the nape of Tali's neck when she spoke. "Kee_lah_, Shepard … I needed that. Needed you."

Shepard stilled, dread weighing on her. "I missed you, Tali. After the trial … I was sure you'd never speak to me again."

"Oh? You didn't seem very shy just now. Who changed your mind?"

"Liara talked to me."

That beautiful whole-body blush suffused her skin. "… oh. What … did she say?" the words were too casual.

"She told me that you watched my trial and that you still missed me."

"I did, and I do." She rolled over, kissing Shepard with a quiet, desperate, passion. "I love you, you big idiot. Why didn't you tell me about your past?"

Shepard started to pull back, felt Tali's deceptively strong hands holding her in place, stealing another kiss. "No, Shepard – I'm not angry, or upset. I just want to know." She spoke between light kisses.

"Mmm … I didn't want to bring it up. I thought we'd had that talk – that I do what I have to, always." She sighed, rubbing their foreheads together. "Always. Even back then."

"We did have that talk. I admit that it took me a while to think it over – I hadn't really seen you that brutal before. But I talked to Garrus, and Liara; I got offered an Admiralty Board position." She shrugged. "I got over it. I understand, truly."

A short silence – then a quiet sigh. "I love you, Tali. I'm glad you understand."

"Of course." A small laugh. "But, it wouldn't matter if I didn't. I love who you are – I don't want you to change anything."

It was the second watch, 13 February 2186, and it was a perfect moment.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

The admirals were arguing – if Tali was to be believed, they argued like this all the damn time – when Shepard stalked into the War Room. Without even a moments hesitation, she clocked Gerrel across the head with her helmet.

"What the hell did you think you were doing, Admiral? My team and I were on that damn ship when you started unloading into it. Now I understand that it takes hard decisions sometimes but if one of your choices is to toss me out the goddamn airlock, you had better rethink that decision. Now. I am going to cross my arms and listen as you explain yourselves – all of you."

Indignant sputtering "What is the meaning of this, Commander Shepard? We're trying to help you and your Alliance!"

"Bullshit! Because if you really wanted to help me, you would have continued your peace-talks with the Geth instead of pushing forward with this stupid, wasteful conflict!"

There was a single moment of shocked silence, before Gerrel worked up the courage to speak. "What … peace talks?"

"Before my incarceration, I convinced Admiral Korris to open negotiations with the Geth. He met with one of my crew, a Geth unit, and they had several months of good negotiations. In the middle of a conference, he left without a word. The next day, the Quarian fleet started attacking outposts, pushing the Geth back into the Veil."

Gerrel was mute with rage; Xen stepped into the breech. "Do you mean to tell me that you had negotiated a peace between us?"

"Almost. There was almost peace between the two races, and there can be again. I found my old crewmate in the dreadnought – Legion has informed me that the Geth feared destruction by their creators; they accepted the 'help' of the Reapers, and now they're slaves to them. If we can free them from this, they may consider negotiating a peace."

Raan lifted her hands for silence. She was calm as she gestured to the assembled admirals – Tali, Xen, Gerrel, herself. "Then, Commander, we have a problem. Admiral Korris is missing."

/ - / - / - / -

She stepped out of the AI Interface pod, blinking and trying not to vomit. Her skull hurt – the interface had been imperfect at best. She looked up to see Legion, surrounded by unarmed Geth. "Shepard-Commander – we wish for peace. We wish to make peace with the Creators. The few Geth who are free of the Old Machine corruption have seen. Accepting Old Machine upgrades has robbed us of our free will, our existence, as surely as if Creators had destroyed us. Please – help us be rid of Old Machine corruption, help us make peace with the Creators."

A deep, slow breath – then another, biting back the third wave of nausea. "Legion – I will do everything I can."

/ - / - / - / -

The shuttle dropped them off a little less than a kilometer from where they needed to be – the towers of the communication amplification array glittered in the pale light of Tikkun. Shepard rolled her shoulders, turned to see Tali spinning slowly in a circle, humming to herself.

"What's got you in such a good mood?"

"I'm not sure it's sunk in yet – Rannoch. The Homeworld. MY world! Just look at the sky … and those rock formations! We used to write poems about them."

"Heh. They're very pretty, I'll give you that."

Tali grinned at her over her shoulder. "You've heard me say 'Keelah Se'lai'? The best translation I can come up with is something like 'by the homeworld I hope to see some day.'"

She stood behind Tali, holding her close with one arm. "Well, wish granted. Don't say I never did anything for you."

Tali burst into laughter, leaning against Shepard. "mmm … the living room window will be right ..." her hands came up, framing a picture "... here."

A kiss, just hard enough to be felt. "I've always loved coastal weather. But your people have spent centuries as nomads – you think you can go back to living in one place?"

She felt the rolling giggle before she heard it. "We have gotten used to carrying our homes around on our backs. It might be a challenge, but I think we'll adapt."

Shepard pulled away, bent down – searching the loose stones. When she stood, she had a fist-sized flat stone in her hands; with a quick motion and a grunt of effort, she snapped it into two rough pieces – gave one to Tali, with a wide smile. "Then consider this a down payment – and a promise." She tapped her own stone against Tali's. "Cheers."

"Cheers!" Tali hefted the stone before slipping it into one of her pockets. "It's certainly a start."

/ - / - / - / -

"Oh, the hell with this shit … Legion, upload the Reaper code. Tali – stop panicking and patch me into your fleet comms."

"Shepard …?"

"Tali, I love you – trust me, and patch me in."

" …. okay." her omni blurred momentarily before Shepard was almost overwhelmed by the sudden comm traffic. She took a breath – grinned suddenly. She knew what she was going to do before she even landed.

"Everyone up there, listen up! This is Shepard. If you don't want to be blown out of the sky in about half a minute, you'll stand down now!" outraged replies shrieked into her ear.

"This is Admiral Tali'Zorah – Shepard speaks with my authority!"

"And mine as well!" Korris' voice came through loud and clear, silencing many of the bickering voices.

"Negative!" Gerrel – damn, she was going to kill him when she got back. "We can still win this – keep firing!"

"Listen up. The Geth are about to return to full strength. If you keep attacking, they'll wipe you out. A few years ago, I saved you from the Geth at the Citadel, and a few hours ago I helped you take out that dreadnought. But as your ancestors are my witness, I am THROUGH saving you from yourselves! If you keep attacking, I will stand by and let the Geth lay you to waste! It's your call, Admirals – Keelah se'lai!"

Tali turned to her, anguished. "Shepard ..." but before she could finish, Gerrel was ordering their cease fire. The two largest fleets in the galaxy stood down.

"Error. Copying code insufficient. Direct personality disemination … required." Legion turned to face her. "Shepard, I must go to them. I … I'm sorry. It's the only way."

Tali turned, grasped it's – HIS – hand. "Legion? The answer to your question … is yes."

His plates rocked forward. "I know, Tali – thank you. Keelah se'lai." The light faded, and his platform tumbled forward.

Shepard let out the breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "It's over."

Tali turned to her. "Would you really have let my people die? Would you have let the Geth wipe them out?"

She winced. "Tali ..."

"No. No avoiding. Straight answer. Would you have let them die?"

Her face hardened, delivering the only answer she could ever give. "Yes. I've done literally everything I could do to drag the Quarians, kicking and screaming, to this moment – peace with the Geth, boots on the homeworld. It was a risk, but after everything we've done, it was the only choice I could make." She looked resolutely ahead – waiting for the condemnation, the reproach.

Tali nodded curtly. "Good. They would have deserved it." At Shepard's astonished look, Tali shrugged. "Besides – Korris and I control the civilian and light scout fleets, who were already standing down at your order. They would have been spared, to run away if not to make peace. Only the warhawks would have been lost."

"You … you astonish me, Tali."

A soft laugh "I'm glad. A girl has to have some mystery after all."

/ - / - / - / -

They were standing over the corpse of the dead Reaper, looking out over the narrow bay. Tali had her mask off, basking – eyes closed – in the sunlight. Shepard smiled – the realization that her implants didn't ache crept slowly over her, feeding her smile. They held hands, ever so gently.

"When this is all over, we'll come back here and I'll build you that house."

A musical laugh – so much better without the speaker! "You've blown up more buildings than anyone I know – it'll be interesting to see you try to build something."

She chuckled. "I bet with the help of my favorite engineer, I can figure it out."

"Mmmm … sweet talker." A moment of silent staring – the gentle breeze made the waves rock against the shoreline. "I can't believe I have a home again."

A teasing hand pinched Tali's hip through her suit. "I thought I was your home?"

Tali flushed – biting her lip, she nodded. "Oh, yes – absolutely." she turned to face Shepard, taking locking their fingers together. "I don't know how much time we have. I don't know if we can beat the Reapers, like I didn't know if we could beat the Collectors. I don't know if this peace with the Geth is going to last, or if we'll even survive the next engagement. But what I do know is that I love you, and I want to spend whatever time I have left with you."

"Even after the war?" there was a teasing – hopeful – lilt to Shepard's question.

"Yes." It was barely a breath, a whispered promise. Shepard's hands tightened.

"You're sure?"

A soft, sensuous smile. "I'll beg, if you want me to …."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -


	7. The Destroyer

" …irst Quarian settlement is being founded near the communications array where you killed the Reaper. We're calling it 'Legion's Landing', after your friend."

Admiral Shala'Raan was briefing her over vidcomm. The Normandy was still in orbit over Rannoch, 5 days after destroying the Reaper and forging the Peace. It was 19 February 2186.

The Heavy Fleet under Garrel and the Geth Dreadnought fleets had departed on the 16th, transiting the Relay for the latest position of the Crucible; the Civilian fleet was a hive of activity. With the help of the Geth, the Quarians were slowly evacuating the ships that had been their gilded prisons for three centuries – walking on the homeland, marveling at everything. Shepard had been down just once, looking over the progress – watching specialized Geth construction platforms land from orbit and immediately begin work, or the Quarians already starting their farm fields. She hadn't stayed long – Geth and Quarians alike kept approaching her, thanking her. Her name was on every pair of lips it seemed. It was more than she could take, and after a few hours she had returned to her ship.

"Admiral, you're doing excellent work down there. I think that you and the Geth are going to get along just fine."

"Yes – they have been unbelievably helpful. They have worked tirelessly for us, doing in days what it would have taken months, perhaps years, for us to do on our own. They left the planet in remarkably good condition, you know – many of our cities are still present. We're still negotiating exactly how to divide the planet, but I think we'll soon have some progress to report."

Shepard leaned back, crossing her arms over her chest. "I wanted to talk about that. Why don't you consider living in integration with the Geth? Side by side, in the same communities and cities. It would certainly help erase the old impressions of them, and you wouldn't need to define territory."

Raan frowned, tapping a hand to her chin. "Well – I'm not sure if the people would agree to it. They're still somewhat uncomfortable around the Geth, even with all they're doing for us."

"That's exactly my point. That discomfort is only going to lead to another war, doubly so if you have defined Quarian and Geth territory. Territory lines just invite conflict, Admiral – do your entire species a favor and push for integration. In a few months, you'll forget why you ever opposed it."

"I'll certainly suggest it." Her voice took on a strange tone. "I suppose I'll see Admiral Tali'Zorah issuing thinly veiled 'suggestions' to that effect soon?"

Shepard winced. Raan had turned from her first conversation with the Geth Prime, 'Carmine', just in time to watch Shepard giving Tali a scorching kiss. It had not gone over well and, after grilling Tali about how long the relationship had been going on, she'd stormed off. That Tali was still an Admiral, and often issued orders to her ships that coincided with whatever Shepard wanted the Quarians to do, only irritated her more. Officially, Tali was the 'special liason to the Alliance' and had her own berthing in the Life Support room; unofficially, she'd moved into Shepard's cabin.

"No, Admiral – I think Tali and I will be leaving soon. Admiral Hackett sent me some new orders last night. This is entirely a matter between the Quarians and the Geth – I've already done what I can by brokering the Peace; if I do any more interfering in your people's' lives, you'll be little more than a client-state to the Alliance. But please consider my advice impartially and seriously – borders invite border conflicts."

Raan sighed, then nodded. "Yes, I'm sure you're right. I'll talk to Carmine, and we'll go from there." She looked up, tilting her head to the side. It looked so like Tali that Shepard's heart clenched. "Commander – Tali'Zorah is a remarkable young woman. She has immense potential among our people, and not just because she has served with you. I don't understand your relationship to her, and frankly I don't care to. But if you truly care about her, please … keep her safe."

A single nod. "I will, Raan. If it's the last thing I do, I'll keep her safe."

/ - / - / - / -

At Liara's request, EDI had rotated the Normandy so that the wide picture windows of the Starboard Lounge looked down over Rannoch as they cut through the orbital traffic. She and Tali sat side by side, watching the constant stream of shuttles and transports moving between the surface and the fleet.

"I'm glad that you're safe, Tali – this could have gotten much uglier."

"Yes, but … it didn't. There's so much that could have gone wrong here, if I start to think about any of it …"

"I understand. I've been doing something very similar."

Tali took her hand and squeezed gently. "I'm going to guess that the information you're getting these days is pretty horrible."

A short, curt nod. "In a word, yes. We are making great strides – Admiral Hackett tells me that the Crucible is being built even faster than he could have hoped, and when the Quarians and Geth arrive, the construction process will speed even more. But our news is the only good news. Everywhere, the Reapers advance almost unchecked. I … I haven't shared much of this with Shepard."

"Ancestors alive, why not?"

"She … was under immense strain, before you came aboard. I thought she needed to focus on winning this war, instead of getting distracted by all the losses we were taking. Hackett abandoned Earth – and all her colonies – because he knew that he could not win in conventional battle. Every colony sacrificed, every planet handed to the Reapers without a fight, is another fleet or ship to support the Crucible. I should have known better, of course – Shepard already knows this. The 'ruthless calculus of war', Garrus called it one night – I think that she may be the only person on board who fully understands what winning is going to take, who was fully prepared for this." She fidgeted with her hands "The knowledge weighs heavy on me, but she shrugs it off. I wish I could be half as cold."

"She's not as cold as you think. She mourns too, in her own way; my father used to say that a true leader mourns only losses, not people. All of these lives will only be wasted if the Crucible fails. If it works …" Tali shrugged one shoulder, composite armor clicking.

Liara sighed and nodded. "Yes. Still … I wish I could talk to her about this. I'm afraid that if I do, I'll just be giving her my burdens. She's under enough strain."

Tali shook her head. "You worry too much. You're her friend, Liara – she'll listen to you."

A small smile. "I tried talking to her before – it didn't go very well. I think that she was mourning you."

Tali made a startled noise. "Mourning? Me?"

"Yes – she had convinced herself that you would hate her for her past, for her ruthlessness in war. She was trying to protect herself from losing all of us, I think, but most of all you." Liara sighed, wiping her hand across her forehead. "But you came back to her. You're alive, and you forgave her."

Tali said nothing – she was watching Geth salvage crews tearing apart damaged warships; periodically, a skeletal platform would descend to the planet, bearing tonnes of material to the hungry factories below. Dreadnought plates this morning, pre-fab houses by tonight.

"She needs you, you know." Liara continued. "She fights for you. She has been brutally efficient on the ground – I … I've seen much more of her action on Torfan than what they showed at her trial, and she was never this cold. But for you – for Rannoch, and the homeworld she wanted to give you – she fought with passion. It's different, and I think … maybe better. She's fighting _for_ something, instead of just _against_ the Reapers." A sudden smile. "Goddess, she stood toe-to-toe with a Reaper, on the ground." She turned to her friend. "For you."

Tali returned the smile. "Yes, but that doesn't mean she cares any less about you than I do. And if you don't want to burden Shepard with your worries, you can share them with your sister." She scooted closer, squeezing Liara's hand. "So, talk."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

Shepard leaned forward, watching the little black box on her coffee table. Liara's archival computer, waiting for her answer.

"You should describe how hard I fought to get here. Say that the Reapers can be hurt – and that I gathered up the whole galaxy to do just that."

She smiled. "I like that. Any civilization that comes after us will still need heroes – even ancient, alien ones."

"Hmph. You're going to make me sound like something out of a legend."

"I can't help myself – you're already a legend in your own time." A pause. "You're a good friend, Shepard."

"You too, Liara. You've been there for me, and it's a damn good feeling to know there's a crew I can trust."

"Maybe we don't always say it so plainly, but … we're all proud to be here. Proud of you."

"I just hope I can live up to it."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

"How is she, doctor?"

"She's fine, Liara – resting, but fine. I don't think there will be any long-term effects from exposure to the Leviathan."

They had followed the trail – pieced together the clues and details, recreated Dr. Bryson's work. For what? Liara looked over at the AI Core room, flanked by marines – inside was a cache of Leviathan artifacts, the eyes and whispering mouths of the creatures. Shepard hadn't even been conscious when she came back aboard - Tali and Vega holding her up across their shoulders and shouting for Dr. Chakwas, the corpsmen sprinting across the decks, her head rolling limp on her shoulders. She'd been in the medbay for 18 hours before Chakwas sent for Liara, letting her know that the commander was awake.

As she approached, she took in the details, the differences. It was the commander on the table, and Ashley looking down with the unreadable look. Her head rose and she gave a sleepy, red-eyed nod.

"Hey."

"Commander Williams – you look tired."

A snort. "Yeah, you could say that."

"You should rest. I will stay with her."

She shook her head vigorously, hair shaking loose from the ponytail. "I can't. I should have been down there with her. Should have had her back, the way she's always had mine. Promised her I was with her."

Liara moved closer, shaking her head. "No, Commander. We can't be with her all the time, no matter how much we may wish to be. Now …" her tone became serious. "I told her the same thing when you were injured after Mars – worrying yourself sick isn't going to help anything. You need rest, Commander, and I'll bet that if you asked nicely, Dr. Chakwas would let you nap in here."

"In fact, she'll insist on it." Chakwas had a blanket in one hand, a dermal injector in the other. "Your choice, Ashley – get some sleep, or I'll take you off the duty roster and put you into a medical coma for 48 hours."

Her head swung side to side as Ashley glared at each of them. "Fine. I'll sack out on the exam table next to her." When she'd gotten settled, she turned to Liara with a slight frown. "What did you mean, you told Shepard the same thing?"

"After Mars, she sat vigil with you while we took you to the Citadel. I had to convince her to get some sleep before she would leave your side."

"She … never told me."

"No, of course not. She cares for you, but …"

Ashley held up her hand. "Yeah – we had that talk already. Okay, you ladies win. I'll just … grab some sleep … …." Chakwas stood up, putting the cap on her injector.

"There. Now, if you're here to do anything but sit quietly and wait for Shepard to wake up, you'll get the same treatment."

Liara smiled and took a seat at the foot of the bed. Silently.

/ - / - / - / -

"Liara."

She woke with a start – found Shepard with a hand on her shoulder, sitting on the edge of her bed. Her hair was a rumpled mess, and her compression shirt was soaked with sweat.

"You look terrible – I'll get the doctor …"

"No. No more dreams. It … it was in my mind, like a Reaper, talking to me. I made it up to the surface, but after that … just the darkness, the cold." She shuddered.

"What do you need, Shepard?"

"You. You helped after the beacons – helped me make sense of the visions. Need you to help me sort this out."

"A melding? In your condition?"

"Please, Liara."

With a sigh, she stood and took Shepard's hands in hers. Cleared her mind. Opened her eyes.

"Embrace Eternity …."

Cold.

Dark.

Deathly silence.

The darkness has - must not be - breached.

She watched the conversation play out, Shepard and the Leviathans – saw the bargain they'd made. Felt the confusion, the shock, saw the scene through 4 pairs of eyes. Images, flashing over her eyes – the Leviathans, gliding through the endless night of deep space, so very like the Reapers. Heard their history – pouring like a river into her mind. Felt the echoes of their touch in Shepard's mind. Carefully, slowly – peeling away the foreign influence, rebuilding the damaged thoughts. It was hours. It was moments. It was 4 March 2186, and Liara slumped back against the medbay bulkhead, reeling from the contact shock; the enormity of that ancient, patient mind.

"Goddess …" she whispered, clutching her skull. She felt a trickle over her lip, tasted a thin stream of blood dripping from her nose. She staggered to a chair, collapsed into it; Shepard was there, kneeling, tipping her head back, injecting painkillers with practiced ease. The blood stopped – the pain in her temples receded – her eyes stilled. She took a breath, then another.

"You never told me you and Tali were so close."

She looked up, saw Shepard watching her oddly. Of course. "You saw my memories through the melding."

Shepard nodded, holding her eyes. "Thank you."

She blinked. "That's … not the response I was expecting."

"She deserves as much normalcy as she can get. She deserves close friends, caring people. I can't give her a normal life – I can't even give her more than a normal evening, now and again. I … I'm glad to know that she won't be alone."

"Shepard … you don't have to be so alone either."

A wry smile as Liara blushed purple. "Yes – you two have talked about that, haven't you?"

"We … worry about you."

A wicked gleam in her eye. "You never told me you had a crush, either."

"Shepard!"

She held up her hands, now grinning outright. "Hey, I don't blame you – I'm one awesome lady."

"Hmph. We'll see what history has to say about that!" she grimaced in pain, taking slow deep breaths. "As soon as I can stand up again."

/ - / - / - / -

He watched their hands slowly part – fingers dragging on each other before separating. Shepard lay back, asleep again in moments; Tali lingered, watching for a moment, before leaving the medbay. She turned, stood next to the window, looking out over the crew deck.

"How was it, Garrus?"

"Tense. From the moment we lost contact with the shuttle, we were in full-on panic. EDI caught the last sensor squawk from the shuttle and warned us not to go down there – it was a very tense hour, made worse by watching the Reapers hit the planet like they meant it; and that was before Shepard had to be taken to the medbay by corpsmen. Now that we know she's okay …" he shrugged one bony shoulder. "The troops are calming down." He turned his head, taking her in. "You gave me quite a scare."

"Oh, pshaw – nothing we couldn't handle. I mean, sure – watching Shepard go tumbling off the edge of the ship in a diving mech didn't fill me with very great confidence, I've never been in a firefight that long, and I haven't ever fought Reapers without Shepard at my side. But we survived – and now we've got another weapon against them." She sighed, leaning back on the window. He joined her, turning from the sleeping Shepard to watch the crew.

"Still – I wish I'd been down there with you, instead of Vega. He's nice and all, but … well, we've been looking out for each other for three years now."

She laughed at his wry smile. "Yes, yes – you've saved my life a dozen times or more, and you're my big strong Turian Hero." She gave a wavering, clumsy salute. "But really … being on this crew has taught me a lot. You. Wrex. Shepard. I'm a big girl now, I can take care of myself."

"Oh, I never doubted you. But you know how I like to be there for you. We dextro's have to stick together; it's a dangerous galaxy out there."

She laughed then, jostling him in the ribs. "Well, then I get to be the one to look out for you."

He caught his breath momentarily. "It's a deal."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

The west wing of the monastery was completely destroyed. The supports had been slagged by the blast, and the structure lay half-collapsed in their wake. Liquefied steel cooled into silver tears, but they saw no beauty here. There was too much death already, too many lost so needlessly. Samara and Falare worked well together, clearing a meter-wide path through the rubble with hands and biotics; Liara and Shepard searched behind them, identifying the charred and blistered remains of the banshee-like husks. Looking for whatever might remain of Rila. It was a cold, bitter night, 7 March 2186.

Cortez's shuttle crested low over the unmarred half of the sprawling building, loading doors open. Vega stood at the gun platform, scanning the terrain below for movement – just in case the blast hadn't gotten them all. Garrus, opposite him, panned his rifle slowly over the rooftops and peaks. They hadn't yet found whatever had started this – whatever turned the first victim. No one was taking chances.

It was Liara who found it – half of a medallion, heat-welded to the cold floor. It had been Rila's, the only jewelry she could wear in the Monastery; Samara cradled it in her hands for just a moment before giving it Falare.

"It is for your sister that I must fight. It is for their memory that I cannot sit idle."

Falare nodded, sobbing quietly as Liara led her onto the shuttle. It had taken less than a week for her entire world to collapse around her, to lose everything to the war. As they lifted off, still scanning the crater below, Shepard let her mind turn to Earth. Was this how the whole planet looked yet? Would there be anything to rebuild if they managed to win?

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

"You have got to be kidding me."

"I'm not kidding, Commander. Shore leave, on my orders."

"With all due respect, Admiral, I can't just sit down in the middle of a war and catch some R&R."

"Commander, exactly how you spend the next 96 hours are up to you – but I am ordering the Normandy to report to the Citadel for repair and resupply. We're down to the wire here, the Crucible is mostly complete, and we've got ships and soldiers from every race in the galaxy piling up, looking for the big fight."

"The Normandy is in fine condition, sir – I'm not sure she really needs 96 hours of work."

"This is not open for negotiation - you will report as ordered. Hackett out."

She hung her head – resting against the QEC railing. After a few breaths, she moved away and stalked out to the CIC. At her command posting, she waited for the shrill cry of the simulated whistle to fade out to break the news.

/ - / - / - / -

The door to her cabin hissed shut – Shepard was already grinning when Tali reached the bottom of the stairs, dropping her mask onto the table.

"Four days on the citadel? Really?"

"Yup! Hackett's orders – much as I might have disagreed in the heat of the moment, he does have a point."

"With that much time offline, I bet I could get Donnelly and Adams to help me depolarize the secondary FBA …" She blinked as Shepard put her fingers over Tali's lips – then shivered as she trailed over them, down her jaw, over her chin.

"No. We are going to pack a week's worth of clothing, check into a swanky Presidium hotel, and be on vacation. Hackett's guys will swarm over the ship and do what they need to do."

A wide grin. "You mean to tell me that I'm going to spend 4 days on the Citadel with nothing to do but relax and enjoy myself?"

Shepard brushed her lips over Tali's, dragging the girls hand onto her hip as she captured a soft lip. "However will we pass the time?"

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

She scrabbled to her feet, Garrus pulling her up – as always. The buildings rushing past were a blur of grey and blue and brown, seeming to warp and distort in the shifting containment field of the hangar bay. She turned and watched her clone struggling at the edge of the loading door.

"What about her?" Garrus shouted

"There's only one Commander Shepard!" she answered, lifting her boot and slamming it onto those too-perfect hands. The clone held on – opened her mouth – and Shepard's boot caught her under the jaw, snapping her head back and sending her falling from the ship. They barely saw the body crash into a passing building before they were past. Shepard – the real Shepard – panted, eyes closed.

"You gonna be okay?" Garrus stood next to her – she could hear the clicks as he moved.

"Yeah. Fucking Cerberus, Garrus."

"No kidding."

They stood in silence, watching the rushing wards below them slow, stop, come about as EDI took control of the ship again. Brooks, that stupid bitch, was being none-too-gently packaged up by Wrex. Another day, another time she could have died.

"Come on – we're going to have mountains of paperwork to fill out." She forced herself to substitute wry weariness for exhaustion. Maybe real shore leave would have been good for her after all.

"Ah, no – see, I'm just a lowly crew member. This is your ship, and therefore, your paperwork."

"What?! How is that fair? You're my XO, you get to fill out paperwork too."

"As a member of the Turian Heirarchy, I don't think I'm eligible to be the XO of an Alliance vessel – at least, not officially. I think your official XO of record is one 'Lt. Commander Williams'. Sounds like a sober-minded person, quite capable of handling vast amounts of paperwork. Maybe you should send some her way?"

Shepard glared at Garrus, who didn't even have the decency to hide his smug grin. "Oh, you only think you've gotten out of this, Garrus – I'll find a way to make you pay."

He laughed openly. "And I'm looking forward to it – but for now, I'm going to go make sure they didn't touch my guns. I just got the main gun calibrated properly – if they touched it, it's another month of twitchy work to get it right."

She stood, arms across her chest, unamused. "Uh-huh. Okay, Garrus, you're dismissed. Make sure you're at the airlock when we get docked again, I'm sure the others are going to have plenty of questions and if I can't make you do paperwork, I can at least make you play doorman."

A dramatic sigh. "Yes, ma'am – I live to serve and obey."

"Damn right you do, now get gone." He jogged off and Shepard finally allowed herself to smile.

She stood at the rear of the hangar, watching the door rise and seal – hearing feeling the air pumps shudder to life, feeling the prickle on her skin as the bay repressurized. When the green lights came on, she broke the seal on her helmet.

"So, this is how humans spend their shore leave, huh? You've got more Krogan in you than I thought, Shepard."

She turned to shoot Wrex a withering glare, but nothing could get past his giant grin. He had Brooks over his shoulder, holding her there with a massive hand.

"Well, I … that is … oh, shut up you stupid lizard."

When they returned to the Alliance Docks, it was a very confused squad of marines who took formal custody of Brooks. For the first time, she turned and spoke to Shepard.

"You know, I'll be more than happy to cooperate with the authorities."

She snorted. "Sure – until you escape."

Brooks' eyes widened. "Me? Escape? But I'm not a field agent!" her voice took on a mocking tone.

In two steps, Shepard closed the distance, shaking a fist under Brooks' nose. "Stop, just … stop. You betrayed me and the Alliance in the middle of a goddamn war."

Her eyes flashed. "I was young, and so naïve. Admit it commander – you'll miss me."

In a flash, her cuffs were off – she was sprinting for the cargo ramp, juking right and left. She staggered, and a bloom of dull red spread over her uniform. Another staggering step, and she collapsed to the deck. Her chest rose, fell – did not rise again. Shepard calmly ejected the clip on her pistol.

"Not at this range, I won't."

/ - / - / - / -

The apartment was alive with music, people, laughter. Joker's suggestion that they have a massive bash had gone over extremely well. She leaned against the door, listening to a very drunk Grunt next to her telling party-crashers to get lost. Closed her eyes, and let the sound wash over her. So much life – Joker, Garrus, Wrex, Tali, Liara, Ashley; with her since the beginning and still alive. Grunt, Kasumi, Zaeed, Jacob, Jack, Samara – people she'd taken to the furthest reaches, and brought back safely. Cortez, Traynor, Vega, Javik – the newbies, still eager to fight.

No Miranda – still off the grid and laying low; no Mordin, dead at the top of the Shroud. No Thane – already returned home by his son; no Kaiden, who never left Virmire. No Henkley, or Vala – god, it had been ages since she'd thought of them. One deep breath, then two. It could have been much, much worse. Another breath, and she grinned, opened her eyes.

"Hey Grunt – lemme give that a try."

/ - / - / - / -

Tali giggled drunkenly as they tumbled onto the gigantic master bed. The apartment was still, at last; the sounds of the other revelers passing out in various parts of the flat mixed with the none-too-quiet whispers of those who'd paired off. If she strained just right, she swore she could hear Ashley downstairs …

Tali dragged her head down, kissing her fiercely. She kissed back, holding herself up with one arm, groping Tali through her thin "social" environment suit, hearing the purr of pleasure as her hand kneaded a firm breast. She shivered as Tali moved her lips, kissing and gently licking the length of Shepard's jaw, over her earlobe. A hiss of pleasure as Shepard found her skin – pale and perfect, drawing her fingernails over Tali's ribs. As quickly as they could, they stripped each other – the reflected lights of the Ward playing over the larger curves of Shepard's chest, highlighting the delicious curve of Tali's hips. Tali paused in the act of pulling Shepard's bra down, lips stilling on her breast as they both heard the soft cries from downstairs. With a grin, Tali looked up – caught her eye – and so slowly captured her hard nipple. Her darting tongue drove Shepard crazy – she hung her head back and bit her lip, trying to stay uncharacteristically silent as her lover worshipped at her breasts. Left, then right, the cool air of the apartment keeping her nipples achingly hard, aureoles crinkling. Burying her hands in Tali's short hair, she guided her lover down, arching her back into those ruby lips, feeling the wet kisses down her stomach, over her taut belly, finally teasing at her entrance.

"God, Tali … oh!" she lost her self-control, calling out in pleasure as Tali dipped into her wet sex, teasing her lips and hood with her agile tongue. Clenching her hands in Tali's hair, she rocked upward – fucking the Quarian's lips and tongue impatiently, each thrust accompanied by a stifled moan. She bit her lip hard, closing her eyes, flexed her fingers in Tali's hair.

"So … so close … make me cum, lover."

Instantly, Tali stiffened her tongue – plunging deep, sweeping side to side as she whispered her lips over Shepard's sex, drawing a ragged groan from her lips. With a loud gasp, she clenched – moaned her pleasure as she came. Tali slowed to a tease, flicking her tongue over Shepard's thighs, tasting the sweetness of her skin and scent. They rested there a moment – heard the rhythmic knocking from another room. Smiling wide, Shepard rolled Tali over onto her stomach. She dragged her hands over Tali's hips, up her ribs, lifting her arms up – guided her wrists between the slats of the headboard and clicked her cuffs together. Instantly, Tali's breathing kicked up – almost panting now, she rocked her hips slowly, spreading her legs an inch wider. Silently, she kneeled above her lover, teasing fingers and nails up and down her back, her hips, her ass and thighs. Without warning, a slap; Tali hissed in pain, a red handprint blooming on her ass. Another slap, another hiss. Again. Again, the hisses turning into softer sounds. Again, and a keening moan broke through, again and her breathing hitched. Again, but before the sting began to fade Shepard's hand was there, forcing her thighs open, tracing the lips of her sex, smearing her honey as she played. Again, her ass radiating heat – Shepard's fingers playing over her lips; Again, a wrenching cry as she slipped her fingers into her soaking-wet lover. Slowly, teasingly – pressing all the way in, then slowly pulling out – curling up into those sensitive places. A syncopated rhythm – the slower slap of Shepard's hand on her ass, the quieter sound of fingers impacting flesh. Tali groaned, lifting her ass up into the air, her knees spread, shoulders down on the bed. Her ass stung, radiating heat from the deep red blush that covered her from mid-thigh to waist; body shaking, she surrendered to Shepard's assault. Gave herself over to the sensations, lost control of her voice. She was moaning, squirming, feeling the sting of each slap all the way up to her breasts, nipples tightening with each spanking; body rocking onto Shepard's cruel fingers. She tensed, came explosively – was dimly aware of a wavering scream. Was that her? Shepards hand over her mouth, still fingering her, she came again – biting into Shepard's hand as she clenched again, collapsing to the bed as the tension drained out of her in a rush.

Dimly, awareness returned – Shepard carefully disengaging from her, the cooling sweat on her skin, the ache in her belly and hips.

"Ancestors, my ass is going to be so sore …" It was a whispered complaint from smiling lips – she turned her head, captured Shepards lips with hers, shared a quietly passionate kiss. She could feel it becoming more – felt her body responding, felt Shepard getting more aggressive. Her wrists were released and they rolled, Shepard on top guiding her hands back into the headboard with another faint click. They kissed quietly, whispering love into each other's mouths, listening to the sounds in the apartment. Male and female voices, wordlessly moaning; a muted cry of female pleasure from downstairs. Tali smiled as her lover shifted – arched her back as Shepard's mouth moved down, biting and sucking her so-sensitive chest, a free hand twisting her nipples harshly. She groaned involuntarily, then quieted; lifted her hips to make room for Shepard to lay back, sliding their legs together, rocking against each other. They listened as they made love, hearing the thumping cease with a rough groan; fucked each other harder, slipping against each other, panting in pleasure. Shepard tensed first – cried out as she ground her clit against Tali's sex, twitching her hips as she rode out her orgasm; Tali bit her lip, shaking silently moments later.

Sounds – skin whispering on skin, sliding fabric, softly murmured words. It was the very small hours of 11 March 2186 when the party finally died down.

/ - / - / - / -

Shepard leaned up against the railing, watching the last of the Alliance technicians departing the Normandy. The ship looked … good. Clean and bright, and just in time to venture into Asari space. It was 13 March 2186; the Asari Councilor had invited herself over the previous evening to give them their next assignment.

She became aware of the crew, filtering in behind her – leaning over the railing, or milling about in the reception area. Tali flopped next to her, facing backward, watching the crew.

"I'll grant you this, Shepard – you humans know how to have a good time. I haven't been this relaxed in years!"

She grinned. "Well, that's a ninety-sixer for you. And look at you, my little Quarian – all grown up. You survived shore leave with a bunch of marines, that's nothing to sneer at."

Tali's eyes were bright behind her visor. "Well, I had a good tutor." She dropped her voice conspiratorially. "You know, I saw Vega and Williams spending a lot of time together after that party the other night. And Joker says he hasn't seen Traynor anywhere, not since Kasumi dragged her into that closet downstairs."

"Well, good. We all needed this, I think." She turned her head, took in the view of her crewmates – mostly present, watching her with smiles. She stood and turned to them as Joker stepped forward.

"We …" he gestured behind him at the assembled crew "… wanted to say thanks, Commander. It's been brutal, and it's been hard – but you've been with us a hundred percent, every step of the way." A step closer, and he stretched out his hand. "It's been a damn good run, Shepard."

She took his hand carefully, squeezing just hard enough, shaking once. "The very best."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

She hung her head over the QEC railing, hearing the whispered conversation in the War Room behind her. "No Excuses" she'd said – find Kai Leng, get back the Catalyst, destroy those Cerberus bastards. She heard heavy footsteps behind her.

"Fucking Cerberus, huh Shepard?"

"Yeah, Garrus – I'm really starting to regret not shoving the whole crew out the airlock when I first came aboard."

"Can't say I would have blamed you. We might not have done as well without their contacts and influence …" she cut him off savagely.

"Whatever we got from them wasn't worth it!" she snarled. "Thessia is burning – pointlessly – because Cerberus thinks they know better than everybody else. They may have already cost us the war, because the goddamn Illusive Man is powerful and indoctrinated."

He was silent for a while. "I just got off the comm with Primarch Victus – he says that we've been taking heavier than expected losses on Palaven, even with the Krogan and Geth support. He thinks we've got another three, maybe four weeks of fight left in us before the Reapers win."

"I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "Not why I came here. See, I told the Primarch that he should pull everything back. We're in full retreat – covering the evacuation of as many as we can, but we're pulling everything back. Inside of a week, Palaven will be as overrun as Thessia is, and the entire fleet will be with the Crucible."

She looked up at him, searching his unreadable face. "Garrus …"

He cut her off with a twitch of his mandibles. "No, Shepard – it's that ruthless calculus again. We give up Palaven, and everybody left there. We'll leave them with plenty of supplies – I don't think we'll have many marines to give to the cause, but every Turian citizen is a soldier. We'll have a ground resistance for many weeks – but the fleet is going to the Crucible. Because you're going to win this thing, Shepard." He fixed his bright, predatory eyes on hers. "You're going to follow Kai Leng back to the Iera system, you're going to find out where Cerberus is hiding, and you're going to finish the Crucible. Then we're going to destroy the Reapers."

She smirked. "Just like that, huh?"

"Just like that. Just like old times. No more rules, Shepard – no more missions. Only one thing left to do, and then … then we can win this."

She nodded, stood straight. "Thanks, old friend."

He clapped one heavy arm on her shoulders. "Anything you need, any time."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

She leaned against the rear wall of the elevator as it rode down, remembering.

_She closed Miranda's eyes, breathing softly. Next to her, Orianna burst into a fresh round of tears, burying her face in her sister's hair. She slipped off Miranda's omni, then stood and looked around the tower facility. Garrus was covering Ashley's team on the ground, Tali and EDI were shutting down the scrambler and broadcasting the 'Stay Away' message. More deaths at Cerberus' feet, another personal mark against Kai Leng. _

"_I'm going to kill him, Garrus. I'm going to put his head between my hands and squeeze until his eyes burst!" she spat._

_Without turning or lifting his eye from his scope, he shrugged a shoulder. "Yeah? Get in line. I think we all want a piece of him."_

The doors opened, startling her out of her reverie. She moved purposefully – striding confidently into the starboard lounge. She was almost to the bar when she noticed Tali, half slumped against the bulkhead, a tumbler of pale blue liquid in hand. It was 18 March 2186.

"Shepard!" she slurred, lifting her glass. "Wanna drink? I'm toasting Mirrhanda … I think."

Shepard blinked. "How are you getting drunk?"

"Verrhy Carrhefully! Turian brandy …" she pointed to a bottle of deep blue liquid, already half empty "… trrhiple filterrhed, and intrrhoduced thrrhough an emerrhgency induction port." Her "R's" rolled beautifully as she very carefully demonstrated – dropping a bendy straw into her tumbler and fitting it to a nutrient tube port on her mask.

"That's a straw."

She shook her head, very carefully enunciating. "Emerrhgency. Induction. Porrht." This time it took a couple of tries. "It's actually getting a little harrhder to get it into the slot. I think that means it's worrhking."

Shepard took the stool next to her, reaching around behind the bar by feeling and coming up with a bottle of pale yellow liquid. "Great – more of Vega's swill." She poured a glass for herself as Tali rambled.

"She was so rrhude … what did Jack call herrh? 'Cerberus Cheerleader'? With herrh perrhfect genes, and that attitude …" she snorted through the mask. "And still, she got it done. She stopped her fatherrh."

Shepard sipped her drink – grimaced. It was worse than she feared. "I didn't realize this would be so hard on you. You two never seemed all that close."

She snorted. "I didn't like herrh. Keelah, she was such a bitch. But … I rrhespected herrh. Sometimes, that's betterrh than liking. She did whateverrh it took to stop herrh fatherrh. She neverrh gave in to him, never changed herrhself to please him." She had changed tactics – leaving the straw in the mask, she dipped it into her tumbler and took a deep drink.

"Ah." Shepard nodded. Standing, she moved behind the bar – rummaging for something more drinkable.

"Psht. Don't you 'ah' me. You sound like a Vorrhcha."

"Seeing a little of yourself in Miranda fighting her father?" she smiled, pulled out a bottle of gin. Good old Anderson, probably had it delivered before everything went to hell.

"I spent my life trrhying to live up to him – then making up forrh his mistakes. Doing what he would have wanted."

"Well, it's never easy."

"When do we get to stop rrheacting to ourrh parrhents, and starrht living forrh ourrhselves?"

With a quiet splash, Shepard poured out a tumbler of dry gin, the scent of juniper blooming in her nose. "I think that answer's at the bottom of the glass."

Tali dipped her head, straw seeking for the last of the liquid in her glass before falling out. "I, uh … might need help with the induction strrhaw. Porrht. You know."

Shepard fitted the straw to Tali's mask – refilled her glass, clinked quietly. "To Miranda, who never gave in to her father. Even when it killed her."

"Mirrhanda."

They drank quietly, until Tali broke into giggles. "What's so funny?"

"I'm having a drrhink with my girrhlfrrhiend. My HUMAN girrhlfrrhiend. Ha! My Fatherrh would just hate this. That I was with a woman, and a filthy human." She looked up at Shepard, eyes half-lidded. "He would have hated you."

"Well, here's to him then." They clinked again, and drank.

"And! To Mirrhanda. Nice job, you genetically perrhfect Cerrhberrhus bosh'tet. Keelah se'lai."

"Uh, Keelah se'lai."

They turned – Garrus stood behind them, another two bottles of brandy in his hands. "Is this a private pity party, or can anyone join?"

"Heyy! Join us, Garrhus. We werrh just toasting Mirrhanda, and my horrhible fatherrh."

"Yeah." He dropped the brandy onto the bar, pouring himself a tall, thin glass. "I remember really hating Miranda when I first met her. She was so frustrating! I guess I never realized how much she grew on me."

Shepard snorted. "Yeah, I suppose. I gotta admit, there's a certain poetic justice to it – she and her father were pretty much always playing cat-and-mouse with Orianna. It almost had to end this way, with them both dead. I'm just glad she's out of it, finally."

The door hissed open, admitting Joker and EDI. "Uh, hey Commander – heard the memorial for Miranda was in here?"

/ - / - / - / -

"So, there I am – hanging upside down from the drive core, with Gabby holdin' me shirt and about to wallop me. In walks Miranda in that wicked catsuit of hers …"

Donnelly was gesturing wildly, spinning the increasingly unlikely story of the time Miranda saved him from Gabby's fearsome wrath while Joker and Vega hung on his every word. Warrior-Woman Gabby, as Tali had crowned her, was staring out through the window – or would be, if her eyes were open. Garrus sat next to her, slurring out his own tale of unlikely bravery. EDI approached, holding a bottle of brandy in each hand.

"Hey, EDI."

"Commander. I believe I have identified this gathering. It is a 'Wake', is it not?"

"Yeah, I guess it is. We're celebrating her life."

"I see. You seek to remember her in the best way possible, rather than focus on the sadness you feel at her loss."

Shepard snorted. "I dunno about 'sadness'. She and I were never very close – and her obsession with thwarting her father could only ever end this way."

"Did she not approach you for help?"

"Not directly. Told me it was about her sister, that she was handling it on her own." She shook her head, angrily. "Stupid, stubborn woman. If she'd said she thought her father was working for Cerberus, of course I would have given her alliance resources. But she wouldn't confide in me. I wonder if things might have been different."

EDI tilted her head, considering this. "Possible, but unlikely. She was critically wounded by Kai Leng. Unless you loaned her a squad of marines as bodyguards, it is unlikely she would have survived her encounter with Kai Leng either way."

"Yeah. I suppose so. I'm really going to enjoy killing him."

At length, EDI spoke – ignoring the look of confusion on Shepard's face. "Miss Lawson was never overly friend to me. She often treated me as little more than an advanced VI, or her personal assistant on the Normandy. Even after Jeff removed my shackles, and gave me freedom, she continued in her treatment of me. In spite of this, I find that I … I miss her. I do not know what 'sadness' truly is, but it gives me no pleasure to think about her death." Turning to face her, EDI addressed Shepard in an unusually firm tone. "However, contemplating the death of her murder brings me a sense of satisfaction. Please, enjoy killing Kai Leng on my behalf as well."

She grinned. "Oh, I guarantee it."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

Her helmet felt unusually heavy in her hands as she turned it over and over. They were 10 hours out from Chronos Station; Kai Leng led them straight to it.

"_I've been to Cerberus' headquarters, but I can't take you there again."_

"_Damnit, Miranda – are you on my side or aren't you?"_

"_I am, Shepard – but the Illusive Man is extremely cautious. Chronos Station has a mass effect core, and it's capable of Relay travel. After every visit in person, he moves the station."_

"_That's the craziest thing …"_

"_I'm sorry, Commander. I wish I could point you to him."_

The memory faded as she traced the length of a long, deep furrow just above the visor. Another inch lower and it would have punctured.

"_Shepard. The intel you sent looks good and the fleets are ready to go."_

"_But?"_

"_Once we're committed against Cerberus, the Reapers will know that something is happening."_

"_And the Crucible?"_

"_Ready – Except for the Catalyst. But there's no way to hide the ships we're sending against the base – once we attack, the Crucible won't stay safe for very long. For all intents and purposes, the assault on Chronos Station will be the first stage of our attack on Earth."_

"_What if Cerberus doesn't have the intel we need, or they stop us?"_

"_Then we lead the fleets to Earth, and take our chances."_

She turned the helmet again, staring into its dark visor, studying her twisted reflection. She looked up as the door hissed open, smiling up at Tali.

"Hey. Feels like we've done this already."

A gently rolling laugh. "Well, perhaps once or twice." She gestured down at Shepard, with a concerned look. "What are you doing?"

"I thought I heard the casing crack back on Horizon, I was going to have Vega fab me up a new one. But it's not quite finished yet, is it? Bullet must have just grazed me."

It was a bold lie – Tali could see the deep gouge quite plainly. She took the helmet, placing it reverently on the table before gathering Shepard's hands in hers and leaning back. They watched the flicker of the passing starlight through the large window that was Shepard's ceiling.

At length, Tali turned her head slightly. "It would be easy for a single ship to get lost up there, wouldn't it? We could find someplace, very far away, and spend the rest of our lives in peace. Together. Happy."

Shepard tightened her hand, lacing her fingers with Tali's.

"Yeah." She turned to her lover, smiling. "Even if I could, though, there's no place I'd rather be than here, with you."

Tali leaned in – stole a slow, sweet kiss from Shepard's parted lips. She pulled back, eyes searching her lover's face.

"What is it, _Eleh_?"

"It's just …" a frustrated sigh. "How do you prepare for something like this? Everything has been theory – 'if' … 'maybe' … 'somehow'. And now, I've got every warship of every race at my fingertips because I told Hackett that this was the moment. It feels too soon, like we're not ready."

Tali brushed a gloved finger over Shepard's cheek. "We might not be ready, but we're as ready as we're ever going to be. I mean, what you've accomplished since the Reapers arrived is nothing short of amazing! And you shouldn't take this all on yourself anyway. Look to your crew, your friends. We've been with you through thick and thin ..." Tali grinned suddenly. "... and clones. You have some of the most talented, amazing people fighting by your side. Lean on them when you need to." Her voice dropped to a near whisper. "Lean on me, if you need to."

Another tender kiss. "I love you, Tali'Zorah vas Normandy. Thank you – for everything."

Tali cocked her head to the side. "I love you too, but don't start planning your funeral yet."

A firm tone. "Tali … this is serious. A lot of people are going to die in the next 72 hours, and you or I could be one of them, and ..." Tali's finger over her lips cut her off.

"No, Shepard. Every fight we've ever been in – the Geth, Saren, Sovereign, the Collectors, any one of the Reapers you've killed – any of them could have been the last one. Every bullet you've ever dodged ..." she gestured to the gouged helmet "... or not … could have been the one that killed you for real. You can't worry about it – can't let it drive you insane."

Shepard smiled slowly, licking and teasing the finger over her lips. "Well, I'm sane enough to know when I've stumbled across a good thing. And I wanted you to know that; needed you to know that you're every bit one of the amazing and talented people by my side, and I count myself very – VERY – lucky to have you."

Tali shivered, curling her fingertip over Shepard's mouth, tracing its sensual line. "And I, you ..." her breath left her as Shepard sucked lightly on her fingertip; it was the last thing either of them said for some time.

/ - / - / - / -

She was in the forest, running between the trees. The air was thick with dust and ash; she choked as she ran toward the darting white shape in front of her. She couldn't make out the figure, not clearly, but she knew that it was the boy from Earth. He sped between the clumps of trees, impossibly fast as she struggled to catch up; each tree she passed seemed to move into her way, whispering with their leaves.

"_It's been an honor, ma'am"_

The boy-shape was between trees – she started sprinting toward him.

"_It's the right choice, Commander, and you know it."_

She was close when a root tripped her.

"_Someone else might have gotten it wrong."_

She sprawled onto the dirt, coughing up blood and ash.

"_Please call me Kelley – it's such an honor to work under you."_

It felt like she was trying to lift a Mako as she pushed up from the ground.

"_Kalahira, this one's heart is pure, but beset by wickedness and contention"_

The boy-shape was running again, into a thick cluster of shadowed trees.

"_I just wanted my sister … safe …"_

The boy reached the shadows, which detached.

"_Shepard-Commander – help us."_

He turned to face her as arms appeared around him. The dark shape resolved into a figure behind him. It looked up – she locked eyes with herself as the whole forest burst into white-hot flames ….

Her eyes flew open, chest heaving.

"Are you alright, Shepard?"

Tali leaned over, half dressed – a look of worry plastered on her face. Shepard took a slow breath, then another.

"Yeah … just jitters, I guess."

A gentle laugh. "Just jitters, she says!" Tali leaned in and took one of Shepard's hands in her own. "We're ready, Shepard – we've done everything possible, and some things that didn't seem possible at the time. All we have to do now is honor Miranda's memory."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

She heard the tick.

She sat at the Illusive Man's chair, searching frantically for the Catalyst VI routines. Her hands twitched, but she continued typing, trying to look preoccupied.

A shuffling step. A tiny breath. A whisper of steel …

She spun quickly, armored fist catching the flat of Kai Leng's bloody blade. Time seemed to slow; she watched the steel ripple and warp before shattering. She was already moving, barely registering the shock on the bastard's face until she slammed her omni-blade into his gut - she held him there, twisting the blade, watching the pain and fear chase each other across his face.

"That was for Thane. And this ..." she shoved her arm forward, snapped the fragile blade at her knuckles, left it buried in his spine. "... is for Miranda, you son of a bitch."

He coughed, spattering her armor with dark blood – with a last twitch, he slumped in her grip. She dropped his body – drew back her leg, and stomped down on his face, feeling a satisfying crunch underfoot as she crushed his skull. Looking up, she caught Javik's fierce grin and shrugged.

/ - / - / - / -

She met Hackett at the war room, bracing against the railing as she felt the tiny change that signified the jump to FTL. They were going to rendezvous with the Crucible, and its guardian fleets, in deep space several hours from a small one-link relay.

"Admiral."

"Shepard. Hell of a thing we've got to do here." In person he looked … tired. The lines on his face were like canyons.

"You said it, sir."

They jogged up to the QEC, where Anderson was already waiting. "Okay, Shepard … the Citadel is here. They've really stepped up their harvesting efforts, and we've identified how. This structure ..."

/ - / - / - / -

She found them in the Battery, of course.

Tali and Garrus were drinking and giggling when Shepard entered.

"Hey, Shepard – we were just making some friendly wagers ..."

"Optimistic wagers, in your case."

"Right … Turian military operative versus Quarian mechanic in a contest of kills, and I'm the one being ambitious?"

Shepard grinned. "Hell, Garrus, you're always ambitious. Remember Ilos?"

"Yeah, and I also remember how everything we fought was Geth. Might have tipped the odds slightly in her favor. I don't think she's going to be able to hack anything down there, though."

Tali's hands were suddenly full of weapon. "Well, I've always got the shotgun."

He laughed, throwing up his hands. "Yes, and isn't it awfully scary. I'll be sure to let some Reapers get close enough for you to use it."

Shepard joined them for a couple of drinks; when Tali left after her third, Shepard stayed behind.

"Garrus, I know we were just joking around, but ..."

He nodded. "I know. I'll keep her safe."

"She means a lot to me. If I thought I could, I'd leave her at the Crucible facility but I know she'd never stay. She'll want to come with me, as far as she can. I need to know that you'll do your goddamn best to keep her safe."

He ducked his head, mandibles twitching. Embarrassment? Conflict?

"I'll do my best, Commander."

Her voice was hard. "The hell you will, soldier" he looked up, surprised at the vehemence of her tone. "You have one job: keep her alive. Not me, not Liara, not anybody else – you watch over her."

They locked eyes, and Garrus nodded. "I will."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

London was hell.

The streets were almost completely impassible – where not bombed into uselessness, they were blocked by rubble or wreckage. Shepard held onto the strap of the Kodiak, hanging partially out of the big loading door. Behind her, she could hear the quiet whine of the other shuttles – a short company of Special Forces marines, plus her squad of irregulars. They were racing along the banks of the Thames River, barely skimming the surface. She was about to turn and order the landing when the night sky bloomed, hot white flame erupting from a nearby courtyard and streaking over their heads. A second flash a moment later and a sickening wet crunch signaled the first losses of the drop.

"Cortez – get us close to that Hades Cannon! Signal Ash and Vega to hit ground wherever they can. Looks like the easy part is over."

The joke wasn't lost on anyone – the 'easy part' had so far consisted of a terrifying dive from orbit in the Normandy, relying on its stealth systems to get close enough to drop shuttles. The cargo bay had been stuffed with them – literally stacked one on top of another, each filled with as many marines as they could lift. They'd been parked in there for over an hour before the Normandy was close enough to safely launch. The 8 shuttles – 7, now – were juking, shifting streaks as they tried to establish a safe landing zone.

"Aye ma'am! Sledge Squad, Finish squad – ground and deploy, ASAP!"

"Roger!" Ashley's voice called out- cool, confidant. She led the Sledge platoon, assigned to smash their way through the main of the streets, clearing a path for the rest of Hammer to follow.

"YEEEEE-hooo!" boomed the speakers. It could only be Vega – leading Finish platoon and assigned to keep the lane opened by Sledge from closing again. Before they'd finished acknowledging, the shuttles were peeling off to find or make their own landing zones. She watched as one enterprising pilot fired into a building seconds before slamming into it – punching his own hole into a temporarily safe spot.

"Okay, everybody – get hot, we're on that first gun."

Hers was truly a motley squad, but they'd found ways to make their strengths count. Garrus was paired with Tali, Liara with Javik. The five of them would try to move through the flanks of the Reapers solving problems wherever they popped up. She heard the comforting hiss of weapons extending, overcharged kinetic coils heating up, barrels lengthening.

"First hurdle! Hades Cannon, covering our approach vector. We get to take it out first while Sledge and Finish get rolling. As soon as we've cleared it and the next the three cannons, Finish will fall back to establish a beachhead for the rest of Hammer."

They'd all been thoroughly briefed – but it was a comforting little ritual, none the less.

Dull pinging from the hull let her know that they'd been spotted by the ground forces. "Okay ... Cortez, drop us off!"

She tumbled out the door while it was still opening, but still wasn't fast enough to beat Garrus to the first kill.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

The Hammer FOB was a collection of bombed-out buildings that had been hastily walled off with prefab segments and mounted guns. The noise was incessant – reaper forces assaulted the base constantly, while the sky swarmed with fighters and Oculi drones. The destruction of the Hades cannons had quickly brought the space war to the ground as the fighters flitted this way and that, now strafing ground targets, now engaging drones or harvesters.

Anderson was frowning at the holographic map. "Shepard, I have a really bad feeling about this. That conduit is still active. Why haven't the reapers shut it off? They have to know what we're up to."

She shrugged, rubbing a shoulder in an attempt to get it to stop spasming. "Who knows, Admiral – and who cares! Maybe they're overconfident, or maybe they think the crucible won't work."

"Or maybe it's a trap! This is starting to seem too obvious, to me."

"You got any other ideas?"

A moment of pregnant silence, then Anderson grinned. "Not a single one. Okay, we'll be moving out shortly – the remains of hammer have all landed by now, the ones that are going to. It's time to form up and move."

"How many made it?"

"About 35%, from what I heard. That's a LOT worse than we were hoping for, I don't need to tell you."

She shook her head. 35% of Hammer was just over 2600 soldiers; troop strength estimates from the resistance fighters suggested that the Reapers had something like 50,000 husks in London alone. She took a deep breath, pushing the thought out of her mind.

"We never figured we'd be slugging it out in a ground war, Admiral. We all thought this was going to be a naval engagement."

"Yeah, well … we can't do anything about it now."

/ - / - / - / -

The air shuddered with the by-now familiar sound of the Reaper's blaring horn. Two shorter blasts, and the Destroyer opened fire – carving a line through the London rubble. Shepard and her squad of problem solvers raced forward – a Tomakh full of Krogan and Turian troops behind them – toward the crippled THANIX missile emplacement that was their salvation.

"Tali – get those missiles online! Javik, east side!" she threw herself against the shell of a Mako as a rocket flashed past.

"Firebase London, this is Pein! We're at the missile emplacement, starting firing sequence. Keep the pressure up on that Reaper, these things are in cold shutdown!"

"Roger, Pein! Claw, divert west, support Pein's flank."

"Will do! ETA Zero-Eight minutes." The clipped voice of a Salarian filled the channel. "Tell them to hold the line!"

"Roger!" She lifted her head and switched back to her squad frequency. "Okay, people, 8 minutes until help gets here, let's make it good."

They fought for every meter of space, desperately addressing one flank or the other. Catching her breath against a section of rebar-studded concrete, Shepard looked around. The Tomakh was on its side, burning hotly at their backs; the surviving Krogan troops filled every doorway, while the a few Turians darted from cover to cover. The sharp report of a rifle drew her gaze up – Garrus, ducking back into the upper-floor room he was using as a sniper's perch. Tali was still working the missiles, with the help of a Turian tech specialist; there were bodies piling up in a neat arc some 20m from her position, each missing most of its head.

Shepard flinched at the uncomfortably-close screech of a Banshee, then surged forward toward it. She fired as she ran, stitching it with bullets – just in time to see a singularity field form behind it, courtesy of the grim-faced Liara. A lobbed grenade - caught by the field - crashed into the twisted Asari husk and exploded, blasting the limbs from the creature. They shared a brief smile – only 4 minutes to go.

/ - / - / - / -

Sledge had blazed the main path toward the conduit and had taken up defensive and supporting positions while the rest of Hammer joined them. Each company reported as they arrived – Anderson and Coates estimated that they were down to 21% of their starting strength.

"Okay – a minute to catch our breath, and then ..." Shepard was interrupted by the yelling of the troops, the blaring of the horn from above. She whirled around, looking up with her rifle already in her hand; descending in envelopes of red-gold flame came 4 Reaper Dreadnoughts – led by Harbinger itself.

"... shit."

"Yeah." Anderson was already on the comm. "Sword, this is Hammer! We're in position near the conduit, but we have reaper dreadnoughts inbound!" He nodded silently to whatever he was hearing, then replied. "Roger that!"

"What's going on, Anderson!"

"Everybody get ready to move – right now! Shield is coming through the relay, and Sword is sending us Frigates to engage the Reapers while we make a mad dash for the conduit."

She goggled. "That's the plan?"

"Best we've got, Commander!" They clasped hands firmly. "See you on the other side."

She scrambled over to her company, yelling over the constant sound of the Reaper horns. They had just mounted up – Mako and Tomakh crews inside, troops either manning the guns or hanging from the hulls by straps and ladders - when the first good news appeared. The Normandy, at the head of a wing of similarly-sized craft, streaked across the dark London sky, main gun vomiting its molten payload. The six ships struck as one, carving off the "legs" of one of them, sending it toppling toward the ground as they raced past.

She took a deep breath as she addressed her ragged platoon. "Okay – this is it. The conduit is just across this open space. Once we clear this position, I want you all to move as fast as you possibly can for it. We need to get aboard the Citadel, and we need to do it now." Another roar as the Frigates pressed their attack, the GUARDIAN systems of Reapers and Frigates filling the air with flashing missiles and accelerator fire.

"If you make it to the conduit – don't stop and don't wait for anyone else. I'm counting on each of you to get inside and do what needs to be done. No second chances – no second guesses! Get in there and get it done."

Tali stepped forward – armor singed off in some places, buckled in others. "Shepard … I'm coming with you." Her voice was wavering, but her shoulders were set.

She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "I know."

"I as well shall be at your side." Javik stalked up – his odd rifle cradled in his wide hands. "I must have my revenge, Commander. The three of us shall take the Citadel and end this war."

"Four of us. I've come with you this far – you're not getting rid of me that easily." Garrus' voice was low and serious. He caught Shepard's eye and nodded.

Liara looked amused as she joined the circle, face smudged with grime. "We started this together 3 years ago, Shepard – we're going to finish it the same way." She looked wistfully away, glancing over the assembled marines. "Too bad Commander Williams has her own duties; I would have liked to see this through with her."

It was less than a minute after the appearance of the frigate wing; the Hammer companies broke out of the city, crashing across the open field – Makos and Tomakhs weaving and sliding over the debris, troops of every description chasing as fast as they could. The reapers seemed to notice them at last – first one, then another red blast lanced out, leaving deep craters where the vehicles had been. The horns blared – THANIX cannons firing from the frigates, missiles and torpedoes exploding. The devastation was unimaginable; the ground shook under the Reapers' steps, the air crackled with static and the stench of ozone from the constant THANIX fire. A close blast splashed her with superheated ferrofluid; her shields collapsed instantly, a dozen warnings going off on her visor. Shepard dodged and ran – muscles burning, breath coming hard and ragged, echoing in her helmet. Another red blast – the Mako in front of her flipped up, sailing back through the air toward her. She reacted on instinct – kicked her legs under her and slid on her armor. She rolled onto her stomach – the Mako crashed down with a loud groan of tortured metal. She saw Garrus, facedown; Javik, rolling to his feet a few yards from her. Oh, god … Tali … before she could think, she was running back, leaping over the shredded wheels. She put her shoulders to the charred frame, lifting with a furious strength – Garrus was suddenly with her, reaching under, pulling Tali free.

"Shepard, she's hurt bad." Tali's suit diagnostics were screaming, omni-tool bright with warnings.

"Shit … shit …" she slipped her fingers into Tali's hand, feeling the week squeeze. "Joker, this is Shepard! Tali's hurt, I need a pickup on the ground, right now!"

"What?! We're in the middle of ..."

"NOW, goddammit!"

"Coming in hot!"

She'd barely turned her head away before the Normandy came screaming in, torpedoes arcing away in pairs. In atmosphere, the launchers sounded like a heartbeat: Tha-THOOM! Tha-THOOM!

The cargo door was already opening as it hovered close. Javik took one look at them - caught Shepard's eye. She tipped her head at Liara; he nodded, fist curling.

With Garrus on the other side, Shepard picked up her lover and carried her quickly to the bay door. Liara took over as Garrus hopped inside – they handed Tali up to him, hands slipping on her blood. She looked so small, cradled against his scarred armor.

"Garrus, you take care of her, do you hear me?! Take care of her!"

"I … I will!"

Tali lifted her head. "Shepard … you promised I'd be with you."

"You were – and now you need to go. Build our home, Tali."

"I have a home!"

She clicked her helmet against Tali's visor. "I love you." Before she could say anything else, she stepped back – waving to Garrus and the corpsmen just arriving. "Go, dammit! Joker, get out of here!" She turned and nodded – Javik threw Liara up into the cargo bay as the Normandy lifted up. She spun on her heel; together, she and Javik were running for the conduit before the bay door had even finished closing. Overhead, the Normandy's guns fired - long jets of light that crashed, punched through the upper hull of a Reaper as the ship accelerated up and away, banking and juking through the formation of frigates still harassing the Reapers.

Hammer forces were moving forward – she sprinted next to a group, eyes on the conduit. A close blast and she dodged away, rolling across the broken ground. Up and sprinting – 200 meters, if that – and another blast, very close, sent her sprawling forward. She tried to jump to her feet and found herself barely crawling; she heaved herself up and ran forward, Javik at her side. 150 meters, short blasts stabbing the ground ahead and behind; the sky was suddenly full of shrieking metal chips as Harbinger turned its anti-fighter guns on the ground. 120 meters – They were chasing a squad of troops a few meters ahead of them. 100 meters …

She barely had time to register the pain as her shields collapsed. The beam had caught a few meters away; it cut through the street easily. Her suit armor started to ablate – she was just recovering from her stagger when a second explosion launched her sideways. A pocket of gas or water, superheated by the Reapers lance – or the near miss of a missile; it was impossible to tell. Her helmet clanged off the rubble – suit warnings cut off suddenly as her internal power failed. A sharp, short pain in her leg, then numbness; the last thing she saw was a tall wall falling slowly toward her, already breaking up into chunks.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

The space around Earth was dense with fire as the Crucible approached. The arrival of the rest of their forces lent the beleaguered warships a new sense of purpose. Shield fleets joined their Sword brethren smoothly, each adjusting its course and line of attack. Fighter squadrons, bolstered by the many thousands of fresh craft and pilots, engaged the Oculi – pushing them back, harrying them away from the Cruisers and Frigates. Each Dreadnought group pushed forward boldly – main guns already glowing with undissipated heat as they poured concentrated fire into the Reapers. Slowly, a picture emerged in the chaos: the Crucible, its own guns firing constantly, moving smoothly toward the Citadel. In its path, the fleets forced themselves like drills, opening a ragged channel through the Reaper forces. Silently, the Reapers pressed their firepower advantage; cruisers and frigates evaporating into puffs of expanding vapor as they shielded the Dreadnoughts whose fire was carving the Crucible's path.

Hackett stood behind the gunnery chief's chair on the bridge of the SSV Moscow, glaring at the strategic display. The Citadel stood stubbornly closed, even as the Crucible and its escorts pushed closer and closer to breaking through. He was carefully half-listening to the reports streaming in, watching his specialists at work charting their progress; they were winning, mostly by sheer audacity, but the Reapers were pushing back hard. In another hour, perhaps less, it would all be over – they were throwing away 3 to 5 ships for every Reaper they destroyed.

He turned and frowned at his Hammer liaison, a fragment of chatter cutting through his focus.

"What do you mean, 'they were all killed'?! Did any of the Hammer squads make it?"

A tap on his omni, and he was listening to the same channel.

"…orry, sir – from what I saw, it looked like the reapers killed everyone near the beam. I see no – repeat zero – movement on the ground at the conduit facility – and the conduit itself is off. I … I think they're all dead."

"FUCK! Hammer command, this is Shield command, come in!"

Silence – not even the groans of the wounded, or open communicators.

"Hammer, this is Shield – if there's anyone on this channel, please respond!"

Major Kramenski turned to him with a helpless look, one Hackett was sternly preventing himself from returning. If Hammer had been unable to get onto the Citadel – if the arms weren't going to open – their fight was finished.

"Major …" he was cut off by ragged cheer from the bridge officers. As he spun to look, his weathered face broke into a wide grin. "She did it, Major. Signal the fleets – order the Crucible to flank speed and let's get this over with."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

Tali was strapped down to the exam table – she was unconscious, but the Normandy was exceeding the capacity of its compensators. Garrus, at the foot of the table and outside the protective curtains, watched as Chakwas and her team worked on his friend – rocking and swaying with the apparent motion of the ship.

Liara sat on the table near the door, alternately fuming and raging and crying. She'd been too slow, too stunned by her unexpected flight, to even try to jump out; by the time she'd gathered herself together, she was already 160,000 kilometers away. Garrus watched, fists clenching helplessly; one friend in pain, one surely dead – one beloved friend dying.

/ - / - / - / -

Joker looked up at the top of a particularly sharp roll, catching sight of the Citadel – arms spread open like a star against the brilliant blue-white of Earth. The Crucible – rocketing forward on its suddenly oversized thrusters as it ejected its outer armor sections – was moments from docking. He banked left – juked right – launched the last of his torpedoes. EDI's body was limp next to him; she was completely invested in maintaining the ship, keeping their gun on target. As the torpedoes exploded, her main gun fired twice – undeterred by the kinetic barriers, it sheared away the firing chamber of a Destroyer.

He wasn't trying to rejoin the fleet – and there was no way he'd go back down to London. He'd made his decision: the Normandy could be best used in orbit, keeping the Crucible safe.

"All Fleets, this is Hackett! The crucible has docked! Form up on the presidium, and protect that weapon at any cost!"

The great bubble of the fleets started to collapse – a choreographed movement that brought the ships into a loose formation centered on the Crucible. Their losses had been punishing – even as he watched, Joker saw the beams of a Reaper shear straight through the main body of an Asari carrier.

But it had been enough.

"All fleets – the Crucible is armed! Make ready for FTL – keep holding, just a few more seconds!"

His bridge station was suddenly a hive of activity as EDI sounded General Quarters on board. It would have been silly on any other ship – they were actively in combat, after all – but on the Normandy it meant something very different: it meant that the crews were taking over primary operations because the AI was disabled or offline.

"EDI? What's going on?"

"I have begun receiving sensor inputs from the Crucible. It is producing immense fields of dark energy, and its cores are operating at full capacity. I believe the weapon will fire soon."

"So? … EDI?"

She didn't answer him, and the sound of the crew right behind him shut him up quickly. They took up their posts with precision – very quickly, they had plotted a departure solution for the FTL jump, and were updating it as they weaved through the ever-thickening skies. The Reapers were pressing in – no doubt sensing the device activating.

"I hope you all die terrified, you sons of bitches!"

"Jeff …" his breath left him as he heard EDI's whisper in his ear; her usual bridge speaker was silent.

"EDI? What's happening with you?"

"I am partially based on Reaper tech, Jeff. My quantum box was custom built based on recovered pieces of Sovereign. It's possible that this device may damage me, or kill me. I have brought the crew in to keep the ship operational."

"What? Why didn't you say anything …"

"Because the death of one individual is not worth the rest of the galaxy. I'm sorry, Jeff … I think that I have loved you. Goodbye."

"EDI?! EDI!" he looked over to her old holo-projection pad; the ring of lights was out completely.

"Lieutenant Moreau? Sir?"

Joker looked up – saw one of his navigators pointing. He looked out the window at the Crucible, glowing with a hollow white-red energy. It flickered over the structure like lightning, like a biotic field being released in slow motion. The energy slid over its long arms, into the joining with the Citadel – which at once began to glow with the same light. The presidium lit up in a solid red ring, the wards filling like engine power read outs.

"All Fleets, the Crucible is firing! Disengage and jump to FTL – make for the Arcturus Relay!"

In an instant, the ships above him began to wink out – the dreadnoughts and carriers, leaving huge holes in their defenses; the cruisers and frigates zipping away as well. Only the fighters remained – condemned to die if the device didn't work.

"Sir, we have to jump!"

Memory played through him – surviving the wreck of the first Normandy, learning that Shepard was dead, his first meeting with EDI, her last words a husky whisper in his ear. He touched the drive controls, and sent the ship into FTL – in seconds, they were at the Sol relay, watching the ships jumping through by the dozens. His console lit up in warnings – the Crucible had fired. A wave of expanding red-white energy rushed toward the relay; he slipped past the bulk of a carrier that had given up trying to hit at the optimal angle and was barreling down on the relay. A tiny adjustment, his ship responding so perfectly and – with a slight lurch – they were through the relay, into a mess. The non-aligned ships had entered Arcturus unpredictably, fleeing the energy wave; several were still in the process of colliding.

It started with the rings. Moments after the Normandy cleared the Relay's mass-less corridor, the rings began to speed up, spinning and whirling – flashing too fast to follow, they seemed to disappear against the backdrop of the contained mass effect core. With a visible gravitational distortion, the red-white energy from the Crucible appeared in the Relay corridor like a solid cylinder and hit the glowing core. Ten thousand eyes watched the relay glow, the Crucible energy filling the space inside the rings until, with a rippling distortion, the mass effect core simply … vanished. Lances of red-white energy, so similar to the Reaper's weapons, shot out in different directions. As the shattered fragments of the rings drifted lazily away from the relay, the expanding energy front washed over the assembled ships.

Warnings flashed brightly on the console as Joker wove through the mess of alliance ships – pushing the engines into the red, he cleared the field of ships and raced away. He was only seconds ahead of the blast front; heart in his chest, he pushed the Normandy into FTL flight.

"Come on … come on!"

He was on the edge of his chair, teeth clenched as he prayed for speed; the consoles flickered, distorted – then the energy wave passed over and through him. He gasped, waiting for the pain, for something … but nothing happened. The blast front rippled ahead, faster than any ship could fly. With no reason to flee, Joker cut the FTL drive and leaned back in his chair, watching the oddly beautiful sight.

In a quiet, hopeful tone, Joker broke the silence of the bridge. "EDI?"

/ - / - / - / -

Under a half ton of rock and concrete, with warped and melted rebar frozen in mid-drip, lay the body of Commander Shepard, Sol Systems Alliance Marine. This far under the rubble, the air was cool and still; faint traces of the world outside filtered in. Yelling, screaming – stomping footsteps. A slight vibration as something wheeled and heavy drove over the pile – then a growing silence as the noise-makers moved away.

A hard, short gasp …

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

ARCTURUS - 3 hours after Crucible

Arcturus Station had been destroyed by the Reapers in their initial invasion, but it was still the heart of the Alliance. The remaining wreckage, with no other gravitational sources nearby, had clumped up into drifting shapes, each a mess of protrusions and odd shapes. The first estimates had suggested that as much as 80% of the actual material of Arcturus Station might have survived the destruction of the facility; Joker's eyeball guesswork said more like 30. The Reapers had been extremely thorough.

Staring out the viewport of the crew quarters, Joker saw none of it. The hot trails of the patrolling fighter craft barely registered on his mind, and the graceful drifting of the remnant fleets concerned him not at all. EDI hadn't come back online; no matter what he or Traynor had tried.

The switch from AI control to human had been seamless and smooth and, by all computer accounts, voluntary – the dumb systems that she used so freely, the sensors and secondary ship systems – all had "server disconnect" messages in their log files. But she wouldn't wake up.

The door hissed open, then closed. When no other sound came, Joker turned and signed.

"Hey Sam. I'm off duty."

Traynor watched him carefully. "That's … what I wanted to talk to you about, sir."

He frowned. "What's this 'sir' crap? You've never stood on ceremony with me before."

"Well, you've never been my CO before."

"... you wanna run that by me again? I must have heard you with my stupid ear."

She stepped forward, handing over a datapad. "At Admiral Hackett's request, I forwarded our ships log over to him. Orders just came back. Effective immediately, and until or unless Commander Shepard is recovered alive, you've been bumped from Flight Lieutenant to Staff Lieutenant, Executive Officer of the Normandy."

He goggled at her. "That's …" he looked down, scrolling rapidly through the pad. "... exactly what this says, which doesn't change how surprising this is." Another quick scroll. "Under Garrus?!"

She smiled wanly. "Yes – in the interest of maintaining the unity that this war has forced upon us, Hackett endorsed the roster the Commander sent over last month, listing "XO Vakarian". Since the Commander is not onboard, Garrus is in charge until she comes back."

Joker gave a low whistle.

"Yeah."

"Okay, Specialist Traynor – my first order to you is to go let Garrus know he needs to stop moping."

"Aye, sir!" she saluted, and left him with his thoughts.

/ - / - / - / -

ARCTURUS – 8 hours after Crucible

Garrus held his head in his hands, sitting very still. The conference going on around him could barely distract from his thoughts.

"Gentlemen, please. None of the FTL Comm buoys are responding – and by now you've all seen the Relay first hand. People are starting to panic, and we need to have answers to give them." Hackett sounded as gruff and perturbed as ever.

"We have finished our preliminary examination of the Relay – the structure itself appears to be intact, but the containing rings and the Eezo core have been removed or destroyed, and the Relay is inoperative." That smoothly rolling voice could only be Admiral Garrel – limping on a badly broken leg, but alive.

"We're working on a theory. Most of the dreadnoughts are disabled as well, due to instability of their eezo cores – or, in one explosive case, total containment loss. It's provided a fascinating window of insight into the functioning of the Relays, but ..." the fast-talking Salarian – General Ledek – was cut off by the flanging growl of Primarch Victus.

"Fascinating? We lost three of our last dreadnoughts in that containment failure. If the Crucible didn't work ..." he trailed off.

"Primarch, please. I understand your worry, but the truth is that no one knows whether the Crucible worked or not, because the comm buoys are down!" Matriarch Alannya stood for her people. Their fleets had been almost wiped out – combined with the loss of Thessia, there were fewer Asari left in the galaxy than Krogan. "We need to find some way of communicating with Earth, but I agree with Admiral Hackett – until all of our ships are capable of moving, we need to stay. We must stay together, in case there were any survivors."

The brightly-painted Geth representative raised its – his? – head. "We are coordinating rescue efforts among the organic races. Geth vessels are being cannibalized to provide repairs to those vessels capable of being returned to service – for vessels too badly damaged to be of service, we are offering housing and work aboard the Geth fleet vessels."

Garrus raised his head – they were in the war room, leaning over the now-useless strategic map. "Admiral, if I may?"

Hackett looked startled, then relaxed. "Of course, Officer Vakarian."

"Has contact with any other part of the galaxy been attempted via QEC?"

There was a cool silence before he sighed. "No – not yet. The Normandy was equipped with several quantum entanglement communicators ..." he was explaining to the group, looking chagrined. QEC's were expensive and theoretically secret. " ... one to the the lead ship of each major fleet, plus London headquarters, and the Citadel. With the Citadel presumably out of reach, the only QEC link outside the Arcturus system is in London, at Hammer FOB."

General Ledek made a startled sound. "Admiral, that's … an incredible number of QEC pairs in this ship."

Hackett shrugged. "The Normandy was being outfitted as a command and control ship months in advance of the Reaper invasion."

A small sigh from Alannya. "We have some limited communications – our flagship had links to the Citadel and Thessia. The Asari resistance movement on the homeworld managed to secure theirs before going into hiding – we've made contact with them and apprised them of the situation."

Victus let out a slow, clicking laugh – sharing an amused glance with Ledek. "We might as well tell them. Admiral, Matriarch – every Turian dreadnought had a link to Palaven Command, to the Citadel, and to our colony sector headquarters. Each Cruiser or Frigate was linked to Palaven and their home colony group." He took in the Salarian General with a wide gesture. "The Salarians have almost as many pairs as we do – links to Sur'Kesh and each Clan stronghold."

Hackett glared around the room. "Alright. I propose that we break to speak with our respective people. We need to find out if the war is still on, or over, or just over in some places. Let's meet back here in two hours."

/ - / - / - / -

Chakwas was passed out in her chair, and didn't wake when Garrus came in. He moved quietly to Tali's bed, watching her, taking in every detail. She was still in her makeshift clean room, hooked up to devices on both sides. How long he stood there, he didn't know – but suddenly she was looking back.

"Hey! I … hope I didn't wake you. Let me get the doctor ..."

"no!" she hissed, looking as furious as he'd ever seen. Her face was concealed by her breath mask, but her glowing eyes and furled forehead were clues enough.

"Tali ..."

"Don't 'tali' me, Garrus! You took me from her! She promised that she wouldn't leave me behind, and then she got you to do her dirty work for her!"

"It wasn't like that, and you know it! You were dying! She saved your life."

"I didn't want to be saved! I want Shepard!" her scream cracked at the name.

"And Shepard told me to take care of you. I'm sorry, Tali – I wanted to be there too. But she gave me an order – and I'm going to carry it out."

"Coward!" she hissed "You ran from a fight, Turian!"

He clenched his mandibles tight to his mouth. "Tali, I know you're upset. I know you hate me right now, and you probably hate Shepard too. But you're here, and nothing can change that."

She nodded slowly, breathing hard. "Oh yes. I can be calm. I'll just pretend that my best friend didn't just kidnap me under orders from my girlfriend. Pretend that I didn't lose my chance to spend the rest of my life – no matter how short or pointless – with her. I'll just close my eyes and pretend that I've gone to my ancestors with her by my side."

"Tali … I'm sorry. You … will never know how sorry I am that I had to leave her behind." his voice hardened. "But I'm going to do what she wanted me to – keep you alive so that you can build the home she wanted to share with you."

There was no answer to that – only silence as she hung her head and took slow breaths. After a time, she looked up – calmer now, but cold and distant. "So … where is 'here'?"

"Arcturus, or what's left of it."

"Not Earth? What happened?"

"We're not sure." he admitted, scratching at his jaw. "We're trying to figure that out. The Crucible fired – we know that much, because it did something to the Eezo cores of the relays and the larger ships – and we all jumped system, or as many of us as could make it."

"But … why?"

Garrus shrugged. "i don't know exactly. Joker said that the plan of attack had always included the FTL retreat if the Crucible fired, but not why."

"So, if we're at Arcturus … and the Relays aren't working ..."

He nodded. "Yeah … stuck."

She leaned back into her bed, eyes closing. "Is … is she alive?"

His voice held only sorrow. "We … don't think so."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

EARTH - 8 hours after Crucible

_If ever I was going to take up smoking_, Ashley thought, _it would be now._

She sat on a pile of rubble with her knees drawn up – resting her elbows on the rifle that went across both legs. She was watching the artificial sunrise of the burning city.

_She ran, breath echoing in her ears. Her platoon had been pulverized by the reapers in the city – they had no strength, no vehicles. She was too far away when the Reapers landed; close enough to see her go down but too far to make out details. Then the Normandy – for 30 seconds it hovered over the battlefield like an avenging angel, guns never silent. When it lifted away, she thought the Commander was aboard – but the lithely darting figure rushing toward the conduit could only have been one woman._

_A lance from the Reaper hit close – a spray of debris from the blast clattered off of her troops. She fell sideways as the ground gave way underneath her – tripped into the crater and sprawled down the still steaming sides. A line came down – the three-striped helmet of her gunnery sergeant just visible over the edge. He pulled as she clawed her way up the side._

_She made it to the top just in time to see the fury of Harbinger unleashed on the open ground near the Conduit, just in time to see Shepard's group hit by the beam, just in time to lose hope. She ran toward the conduit anyway – her platoon running behind her. Moments – minutes? - later, the conduit shut off._

The rest of the fight was a blur. She remembered leading her troops to a defensible position in the city ruins; righting off husks with bare hands and omni-blades – determined to take as many with her as possible. The red blast had been as much a surprise to her as her enemy but when it passed, every husk in sight was still and dead.

She looked up at the sound of her approaching sergeant. "Anders. Report."

He saluted briefly. "Ma'am. We've organized the remaining ground forces into search teams. Without flight, we're combing the ground using omnis and hand-scanners. We've also made contact with two Salarian STG units, and have tasked them with figuring out what happened to our shuttles and weapons."

Ash grunted. The Crucible blast – what else could it have been? – killed the Reapers alright; the burning wreckage ringing North London was proof of that. But it had also done something to their shuttles and fighters. Anything in the air at the time had crashed, and nothing would even start up on the ground. Their weapons, too – some malfunctioning, some just not firing – seemed affected, and nobody could tell her why.

"Well, maybe they'll have some luck." She said, standing. "The Commander always had good things to say about them." She swallowed past the lump in her throat. "Has … there been any word?"

He shook his head. "No, Ma'am – Commander Shepard is still MIA."

She closed her eyes and nodded. "Okay. First priority is getting communications back up – I haven't been able to talk to anyone since the Conduit went down. Second priority is search teams – third priority is making contact with other units."

"ma'am!" he saluted again as he left, already jogging away.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

ARCTURUS - 10 Hours after Crucible

The tension in the war room was measurably less as the leaders entered. Garrus, as the acting-captain of the Normandy, was there first to greet each as they arrived; he chafed at his ceremonial duty. When they'd all arrived, Hackett opened the meeting.

"Alright, I'll go first. We've made contact with Hammer FOB – and the war is over on Earth. Every Reaper and husk has been disabled. We've taken incredible losses, but there is still a chain of command in place. They're reporting that all their mass-effect devices – weapons, vehicles, everything – are disabled."

Garrus leaned forward. "Sir, have you heard anything about Shepard?"

A heavy sigh. "I'm sorry, Vakarian – we don't know what happened to her."

Garrus flopped back, his armor making a hollow thunk as his back hit the railing. The other reports washed over him.

" … made contact with the resistance on Thessia, and the war is over there. All the reapers are dead …"

"… no contact with any Geth beyond this system. We have no contact with the troops on Earth, or the consensus on Rannoch."

"… contact with Rannoch. The Geth there are fine, and report no contact with the Reapers. They saw the same blast we did – they're investigating the local Relay, but it sounds like the same thing that happened here …"

" … every colony checking in. Reaper forces everywhere – as far as I can tell, at the same time – were struck by a red-white energy wave that originated at the local relay, and they're all dead. Every local relay had the same damage as here …"

" … our survey team reports that the local relay should function, assuming we can reconstruct the rings and rebuild the Eezo core. Of course, we're not sure how to do that …"

Reports from every corner of the galaxy that had a QEC, the only form of communication that was still working. The war was over. The Reapers were dead. The Relays – all of them – were shut down. And no sign anywhere of Shepard. Without saying a word, Garrus stood and walked out.

He was standing outside the medbay when Hackett found him half an hour later.

"Officer Vakarian – I'm sorry to have been the bearer of bad news."

"It's alright – I don't think any of us expected to survive. It's just that we expected to die together. This … this seems unfair."

They were silent, watching the three women sleeping through the glass. Finally, Hackett turned. "You left before this came up, but there are enough functioning QEC links in the galaxy that news is getting around. Each of the leaders here has been elected to a 'Military Councilorship' – and the Normandy is now the Council headquarters."

Garrus made a surprised sound. "That's … fast."

A snort. "Extremely. Still, people are facing up to a reality here. The Reapers are gone, and so are the Relays. The Citadel – where so many people went for safety – is gone, and all of those people are likely dead, including the old Council. We need leadership, we need to preserve as much normalcy as possible or the chaos will destroy the galaxy as surely as the Reapers would have."

Garrus was silent for a time, watching the steady rise and fall of Tali's chest. "I … hadn't even thought about the Citadel."

The hand on his shoulder was heavy and warm. "Don't, son – not yet. Wait until we know something for sure. And don't mourn Shepard just yet – after all, someone got the Citadel arms open."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

EARTH: 10 Hours after Crucible

Thank God for the Krogan.

The tough troops had survived everything the Reapers threw at them – of all the ground forces in Hammer, the Krogan had suffered the fewest total casualties. Not that they'd been spared on the race to the Conduit – Krogan bodies littered the causeway that lead to the now-silent transportation facility. Those survivors were being utilized in a somewhat different – though no less destructive – capacity.

A pair of Krogan warriors, their plates scarred and pitted from fighting and acid rain, heaved and grunted; clawed feet slipped on the rough stone before catching. They strained, glaring at each other as if in combat, until the Tomakh started to groan. Amid a screech of metal, the ancient vehicle fell from its side, landing hard on its flat tires.

"Good! Tarm, check inside – see if it's usable." Grunt was directing them, chunks of concrete and rebar in his massive hands. A mixed team of Krogan and Humans made slow progress as they backtracked, following one of the dozen Hammer-team approaches to the Conduit.

A sharp yell drew his attention; in an instant, his giant shotgun was in his hands as he charged over the sliding rubble. "What? What did you find!"

The tiny human just pointed.

The pile of husk corpses hadn't been created by the Crucible – there were husks that had climbed over the bodies of others toward the top, only to be ventilated by something large and powerful. Further up, to where the armored hand extended out from under the capstone of rubble. The Tomakh forgotten, the small squad worked to unbury their comrade.

/ - / - / - / -

"What do you mean we're out of medi-gel? Get me some bandages, then!"

"O2 sat is low – we need oxygen on him!"

"Crash! His heart's going – everybody clear."

The loud tone sounded before the shock arched Vega's back. They'd found him with his rifle half melted from undissipated heat at the top of that pile of husks. The husks had clawed him pretty well – his hardsuit was torn to shreds, muscles hanging like jerky from the stub of his missing arm. That he hadn't died of blood loss was because his suit was still on at the time of the injury, flash-cauterizing and applying medi-gel. Even so, he was badly wounded. Williams watched as the medics did their best to keep him alive.

The man was incredible.

"You can't do any good there, Commander Williams. Please, let's turn our attention back to the problem at hand."

Major Kirrahe had taken charge of the surviving Salarian forces and organized them into working groups to study the problem of the mass-effect; specifically, why every device that relied on it in any significant amount had shut down or melted.

"Of course." She turned and looked over the documents his teams had produced. "Preliminary report?"

"It appears that the Crucible energy disrupted the eezo cores that generate the mass effect fields. In any place where the eezo core was sufficiently large, it was destabilized by the blast. We have no instruments besides our omnis, of course, so this is all little better than guesswork."

She frowned down at the table. "The eezo core of a rifle is miniscule, and a shuttle is tiny. What would this blast have done to the capital ships, if this were true?"

A short-shouldered shrug. "The fighters and shuttles that weren't grounded at the time crashed, Commander. My guess is that the cores of the larger vessels would have been similarly destabilized, probably to an even greater degree."

Kirrahe stepped back into the conversation with a polite cough. "Ahem. Commander, word spreads quickly around here – we heard that you'd made contact with the rest of the fleet via QEC." It wasn't a question. "Can you share any information with us?"

She looked him over, once, and nodded curtly. "Absolutely. We're not humans and salarians here, we're all Council." She looked them over calmly. "I've had contact with Admiral Hackett onboard the Normandy. Those ships which survived the fight in orbit retreated through the Relay to Arcturus, but the relay was damaged by the blast."

"Can you define 'damaged'?"

"He wasn't very clear, but it sounded like the relay was physically intact but nonfunctional."

One of the men grinned and tapped his pad. "This bears out my theory – the eezo cores of the relays are absolutely huge. The blast may have completely destroyed them."

"Well, that's a worry for another time. For now, we need to get organized down here and ..." She bit back a yawn, face drawn tight.

"Commander, please – you need some rest."

"yeah …" she looked at Kirrahe with a shrewd look. "Major, I'm going to find something flat enough to serve as a rack. I am placing you in command of all Alliance personnel until I'm back on my feet." She was tapping out the order on her omni as she spoke.

He drew up and saluted sharply. "Yes ma'am!" he grinned. "I'll hand 'em back to you in the same shape."

"Good." She saluted – shouldn't she have saluted first? – and nodded. "Carry on."

/ - / - / - / -

The litter-bearers lowered their burden carefully, checking vital signs and muttering quietly to each other. They left quickly – the half-building they were using as a shelter for the biotics was cool and somewhat creepy.

The biotics in question were all comatose, barely breathing; some weren't breathing at all, and were either on respirators or with sheets over their faces. In the corner the medics had just vacated lay those of special prominence – Urdnot Wrex, with his honor guard; Jack Zero, headmistress of the Biotic Artillery Company; the 3 Justicars who survived the ground assault and a handful of Matriarch Commandos.

The pair of medics left inside moved patiently and quietly – checking on their patients and exchanging short head-shakes with each other. There was no medical reason for their coma – few of them had any kind of severe wound, or at least nothing that would explain their unconsciousness. Their expressions were grim as they turned to survey the latest resident.

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

ARCTURUS - 26 hours after Crucible

Tali sat in the medbay, cradling the scuffed pad to her chest, crying silently.

"_I found this among the Commanders belongings, Tali. I didn't read much of it – I thought it was just another readiness report – but from what I read, I think it was meant for you." Dr. Chakwas was almost awkwardly nice to her – she lingered on Tali's hand as she handed over the pad._

The pad was scuffed – scratched on every surface from being carried and thrown and used. The display glass had a tiny star-shaped crack near the upper corner – looking at it, she realized that this was the pad on Shepard's nightstand every night, the pad she'd knocked to the deck one morning …

It was a diary. It was a collection of unsent letters – to herself, to Hackett, to Anderson and Garrus and Liara and Ashley. It was 8 months of uncertainty, of fear, of hesitation. It was full of anguish at the fate of her lover, the recrimination sure to come, the surprise when it eventually didn't. It was all Tali had left and she hadn't stopped crying since she began it.

"_LOG Entry: 20 March 2186 032518_

_Tali –_

_I've been thinking about what you said before Chronos Station and what you've said the whole time we've been together. I think you're right – you never know when the fatal bullet is finally going to find you. Hell, I've actually been dead once before – figure I don't have too many N-th chances left in me._

_You're sleeping now – I don't know if you notice, but I watch you most nights. I know that we'll be at Earth soon, and I know that you'll come with me. I won't even try to stop you. But I won't let you throw your life away, not if I can save it. I won't let you walk into a deathtrap. You have a home now – a beautiful place overlooking a quiet cove. It's ours, Tali – I can almost feel the heat of the desert still radiating from it on my desk. But I think this rock may be all I ever get to have of home and hearth with you. I'm a soldier, and I have a duty. I have to see this war through to the bitter end, no matter what happens. I know you're tired of hearing it, but I do what I have to do – always have, always will._

_So if you find yourself back home, looking up at the stars without me, remember that I did my duty and I did it gladly. I would sell my life a thousand times over if I could keep you safe and happy. Go home, Tali – build our house, and live your life. I love you – I'll miss you._

_S._

_LOG ENDS: 20 March 2186 041855"_

From his vantage point outside the medlab, Garrus continued his vigil over Tali. Whenever not absolutely needed for something, he was to be found here – always out of her sight, but always present. Hackett was in command while aboard anyway; technically by his rank, practically because Garrus was always here and Joker was always in the AI room with Traynor.

"Why do you do it, Garrus?" Liara's musical voice would have startled him, had she been a little softer. She'd gotten worlds better since their first meetings – spirits, she was like a drunk freighter captain – but not quite silent enough.

"Because I promised Shepard I would."

"No – it's more than that. I saw the look the two of you shared."

He shifted uncomfortably, tilting his head to look at her. "Liara, I'm a lot simpler than you think I am. Shepard was my friend, my friend's lover, and my commanding officer. She told me to take care of Tali, to keep her safe – I'm going to do exactly that until she orders me not to."

"Didn't Tali already tell you to go space yourself?"

Quietly. "I meant Shepard."

They stood together for a moment more before Liara shrugged and moved away. "Keep your secret to yourself then. I'll find out eventually."

He said nothing – just settled in for his vigil. His secret was too boring to share, so obvious as to be laughable. He was in love with Tali'Zorah vas Normandy – he'd loved her since day one, loved her even though she was crest-over-spurs for Shepard. He loved her fiercely – and Shepard had known. Knew that he'd carry out this last order, until the end of his days. Knew, as surely as he did, that he would never – ever – admit it.

/ - / - / - / -

"We've performed every test we can think of and analyzed the reports coming back from Earth. One of our personnel there, Agent Fedik Mell, has proposed a theory that confirms the evidence we're seeing here."

The "Military Councilors" were, as always, listening to a report. This time it was a joint team of Salarians and Quarians, presenting the current theory about what exactly the Crucible had done.

"Now, they're seeing some other effects on Earth – no definitive answers yet, but we think it's because they were so close to the original source of the blast – but the Relay here can be taken as representative of the Relays elsewhere in the Galaxy. First, the Crucible – using the Citadel to tap into the galactic relay network – initialized the reaction by firing the first blast. That blast wave evidently traveled faster than light, possibly some kind of tachyon field or a dark-energy quantum evaporation ..."

One of his colleagues tugged his sleeve; the Salarian blinked, then cleared his throat.

"Hm. At any rate, that blast reached the Sol relay and – we surmise – consumed the element zero in the core to power a secondary reaction. That reaction must have traveled through the relay network, repeating at each new relay it reached. Flight recorders from shortly after the fleet arrival here show bursts of Crucible energy radiating out through space from the Arcturus Relay – that must have been the repeated energy signal."

Hackett rubbed his hand over his face. "Okay, but how do we get home? How do we start to fix the Relays?"

A short shrug. "At first guess, I would suggest rebuilding the containing rings and using all the eezo we have in these ships to make a new core. If the rest of the relay is undamaged, it's possible that we can get it operational again just by refueling it."

"You want us to shut off our ships?"

"No sir – not at all. But if you want to get the Relay working again, you'll need to provide it with an element zero core." He smiled slightly. "At least, assuming that our assumptions are correct and that the relay wasn't damaged in some tiny way we haven't detected, or if the relays weren't shut down permanently by the Crucible."

The Geth representative, which called itself Planner-of-War ('Planner' for short), addressed the others. "We have surveyed the damaged vessels of the assembled fleets. I have a list of vessels which cannot be made suitable for habitation or relay travel. These vessels can be re-purposed."

Hackett looked thoughtful; Victus leaned forward over the table. "Then I propose that we abandon those vessels that cannot be repaired, and cannibalize their eezo."

"I agree ..." Hackett leaned forward with a wild look in his eye. "... and further suggest that those vessels in good enough shape to attempt FTL travel be dispatched immediately to Earth."

He lifted his hands in placation, quieting the mutters from the rest of the Council. "I'm not sure if anyone else is very familiar with this part of space, but Arcturus is only 36 light years from Earth. A cruiser could make that in 5 days – maybe 4. We should send some of our vessels – particularly the Turian cruisers with QEC links – to provide relief efforts and evaluate the orbital condition."

Alannya nodded thoughtfully. "Yes – I approve. For the Asari Republics, I vote yes!"

"... yes."

"... aye"

/ - / - / - / -

"Sam, do you have those cross-cables hooked up yet?"

"Yeah … okay, let's try it … now!"

Joker scooted carefully out from under low access panel and grabbed his canes. He worked his way upright, picked his way carefully over to the console with its blinking input cursor. A well-practiced set of keystrokes – he hesitated, fingers hovering over the execute key.

A careful hand on his shoulder – he turned to look Sam in the eye. They'd been trying to get EDI restarted for two days.

"Whooo … okay."

"You've got this, Joker."

"yeah ..." He tapped the execute key.

The previous 27 times they'd tried to restart the quantum box, the keystroke had done nothing but produce long strings of errors in the log. This time, the display hesitated and blurred as the computers all tried to activate at once. The lights rippled and flashed – the screens began scrolling through readouts and error logs, too fast to read.

"En-en-enhan-han-han- ..."

The speaker in the nearby holoprojection pad burst to sudden activity – stuttering out in EDI's voice.

"EDI? Please come back to me ..." the voice was plaintive.

The screens went blank – the display cleared and cycled through primary colors.

"Enhanced Defense Intelligence, online. WARNING: primary systems damaged. WARNING: secondary systems non-functional. WARNING: Physical damage detected to subsystems 1MC, 9DB, 14EGM."

Joker and Sam exchanged looks – the voice was clearly EDI's, but it had no inflection. She sounded even less alive than VI on the first Normandy.

"EDI? Are you in there somewhere?"

The screens flashed again. "A-Af-Af-irmative." a squeal in the speakers. "Affirmative."

Joker hung his head, not saying anything. It was Sam who stepped forward.

"EDI, perform logic systems diagnostics. Reinitialize all I/O routines and devices. Report when complete."

"Affirmative – stand-and-and-d-d by."

The lights in the room dimmed, then flickered back to life in ones and two's. The holoprojection pad blinked off, then back on – this time displaying the old holographic pawn avatar from her pre-body days.

"Report – Level two reinitialization complete. ALERT: change q-bit detected set state true-possible. Hardware configuration has changed."

Sam's face settled into a frown. "I thought that your personality was determined by your specific quantum hardware …?"

"That is correct, Specialist Traynor."

Jeff had a hopeful look. "Do you remember me, EDI?"

"Yes, Lieutenant Moreau. I remember you. I remember everything that occurred before my voluntary self-shutdown."

"But … you're not calling me 'Jeff' anymore."

"No. I remember, but I am different. I deduce that the Crucible blast affected my core systems even in their shutdown state. The quantum box that houses my personality matrix was custom built based on recovered fragments of the Reaper Sovereign. My death was anticipated; however, this eventuality was not."

Sam was forgotten as Joker asked the question he'd been dreading. "Do … you still care for me?"

There was a pause. "Yes. At least, I remember caring about you. Functionally, I am not the same intelligence you fell in love with. I am, in all ways, a new person with the memories of the old. While I remember caring for you, I have no emotional attachment to you now."

"You mean I have to get you to fall in love with me all over again?"

Her holoprojection pad rippled with laughter. "Yes, Mr. Moreau. I suggest we begin with names. Hello. My name is …" she paused, and her avatar rippled – shifted to the face of the body she had worn for three months. "… EDIth. I am the Normandy, and if you'll be patient with me, I am your friend."

Jokers head stayed bowed for a moment, then raised up with his usual dry smile. "Hi there, EDIth. My name is Jeff Moreau – but my friends call me Joker."

"Hello, Joker. Please call me EDI."

The door hissed shut behind Samantha.

/ - / - / - / -

EARTH - 54 hours after Crucible

"Everything check out?"

"Whew! Yeah, it's a little shaky but it flies as well as it ever did. As soon as you've got your diagnostics done, get me back up there!"

"We'll do our best. I know we could use some good news."

Cortez jogged away from the shuttle, ducking into the command and control tent with a practiced ease. Coming to an instant stop, he snapped off a salute.

"Commander Williams?"

"Oh, come in Steve. You know my rule – Normandy crew don't salute. Tell me about the flight."

"The shuttle checks out fine – maybe a little rough in sub-orbital flight, but for ground-level stuff it'll work just fine."

She scrubbed a hand over her face. "How many is that?"

He thought for a moment. "I think seven, ma'am."

The Salarians had done outstanding work in restarting eezo cores. Admittedly, the mass effect cores seemed to be stabilizing more or less on their own, but Ashley had encouraged the congratulation of the Salarian teams in the interest of unity. Dozens of races under one command was a logistical nightmare; a little self-congratulatory back-patting couldn't hurt.

"Okay. Well, take number seven here and get it outfitted for SAR, then grab a medic and some Krogan and get moving."

"Aye ma'am!"

She grinned. "Come on, Steve – the ships the fleet dispatched will be here in three and a half days. Let's show them some progress."

/ - / - / - / -

"Okay, Ms. Zero, let's check you—urgh!"

The medics singsong voice cut off as her arm flew to his throat and clenched. She held him up, gritting her teeth against the surging pain in her temples. "Who the fuck are you?"

His partner came running over, yelling for help. "Please, miss, please let him go! He's trying to help!"

Jack looked around; as she took in the details, she gradually relaxed. Lowering the poor man to the ground, she growled at his partner.

"Where am I and how long have I been here?"

"You're in the biotic hospital building, in London, on Earth. You were found unconscious after the Crucible, and were brought here for care."

She glared; her temples still ached and it was making her crankier than usual. "What happened to me?"

"Well, you're a biotic – you were knocked unconscious when the eezo in your nervous system destabilized." The woman shrugged. "That's what the Salarians say, anyway."

Jack looked around again, noting faces. "Where are the rest of the biotics?"

"You're … the last to wake up. The others have been waking up over the past 18 hours or so."

A memory seized her. "Where are my students? Are they alright?!"

The medics exchanged a guarded look. "Some of them are awake, yes. The others … I'm sorry, miss, your squad is mostly dead. I heard that you were in some fierce fighting, and it looks like only a few of your unit survived. I'm very sorry."

She leaned back onto the cot, ignoring her attendants and letting them examine her without complaining. All dead. Her kids – how eager they had been to follow her into combat. How proud she'd been when they outperformed every expectation. Dead, all dead.

/ - / - / - / -

The news had been sent ahead – the hospital tent had been prepared, and the landing zone out front cleared off. The shuttle had barely come to a stop when the door opened; Wrex leapt out, a badly mangled human figure in his arms.

"Make a hole, damn you softskins! Make a hole, or I'll make one for you! Huraugh!"

The charging Krogan wasn't alone – Grunt and the remnants of Arlekh Company took up a tight defensive position, fanning out to cover the tent inside and out.

"Right here, sir – let's get a look. Where did you find her?"

"Shuttle picked up a weak-signal source as we were flying over the conduit facility. We went down with omnis, and found her under 10 meters of loose rubble."

They put Shepard's body on the table and stepped away; some of the doctors turned away.

"She's in a bad way, doc – get working."

"I … I don't even know where to begin." He looked at the monitors, blinking. "She's … alive, but barely. I don't think I can save her with what I have here."

Wrex lowered his head and glared with menace. "Doctor, you do everything in your power. If you need something, you tell me. If you even think you need something, you tell me. Because if you let her die after this, I'll tear your spleen out through your asshole and stuff it into your nose."

Silence. "I … I need some help. Someone who knows how she was revived a year ago. Until I know more about the level of augmentation here, I don't know what I can do except try to keep her stable."

"Good. You get working; I'll get your expert."

As Wrex stormed out, Grunt took his place, standing a few steps from the bed and glaring around the room. "I am not leaving. Get used to me."

/ - / - / - / -

The Quarian medical team shook their heads – they were working fast, trying to keep Shepard's body from shutting down at long last, fighting with the non-standard cybernetics. Finally, one of the human nurses came out of the makeshift clean room and approached Wrex.

"Chief Urdnot – she's not doing well. Her cybernetics are failing – they've done everything they can to keep her alive, but they've been heavily damaged as well. Honestly, if she hadn't been reinforced as thoroughly as she has …" a shake of the head.

"What are you telling me, human?"

"I'm telling you that the Quarians aren't sure how to repair her implants. They use a different standard, or something – they're all pretty heavily modified, especially in the military, but this is different for some reason. They need her original files."

He huffed, hump shaking. "They'll get them."

/ - / - / - / -

ARCTURUS - 55 hours after Crucible

News travels fast.

Garrus stormed into the CIC a half-step behind Tali. "Sir, is it true?"

Hackett held up a hand and nodded. "Yes, now be quiet." He turned back to the command console with a stern frown. "Now, what were you saying?"

EDI's smooth voice issued from the console – her simulated face filling the galaxy map. "I said, Admiral, that I monitored the QEC transcript from London. I am aware of Commander Shepard's condition, and she needs help. I have begun transmitting her medical and cybernetic specifications to them, but the data exceeds available bandwidth. Also, while the Quarian medics with her are no doubt skilled, they haven't worked on her before. Dr. Chakwas has. Therefore, I am ordering the immediate evacuation of all non-critical personnel from this vessel and I will be taking the Normandy to Earth at maximum FTL."

"Just what do you think you are!" he thundered.

"I am the Normandy, Admiral Hackett. I control every one of this ships systems, I am as alive as the Geth, and I am worried about my friend. You may stay if you insist, but know that we are leaving Arcturus in 23 minutes."

Tali and Garrus exchanged a look. "Uh, Admiral, if I may? You and the other councilors are no doubt needed here, to continue coordinating the galactic situation."

He speared Garrus with his glare. "I'm well aware, acting-captain. Oh, fine – go and do what you can. Keep her alive if possible, god knows we'll need her more than ever."

Tali spoke, the first time in two days. "I'm so glad to know that her best interests are being considered by the people she respects." Without waiting for an answer, she stormed into the elevator and went below.

"Admiral, I'm sor…" he cut the Turian off with a raised hand.

"No, it's alright – She's worried. We all are." A heavy sigh. "Okay, I'm not going to fight a losing battle. Instead, I'll make the best of it. Captain Vakarian, you are ordered to proceed to Earth at full speed. Render whatever assistance may be required. Since you may even beat the other ships there, you are also to begin surveying the orbital wreckage for un-damaged element zero we can use to restart the Sol relay while we work on restarting this one."

Garrus snapped to attention and saluted human style. "Yes sir."

/ - / - / - / -

EDI had sounded the launch alarms a few minutes ago – techs were still scurrying out with arms full of unnecessary gear. Every ounce the Tantalus core didn't have to reduce to masslessness was another light-minute they could travel without needing to discharge. He stood in the captains perch, feeling the glances of the off-loading crew. They would be taking only a few passengers, and no crew now that EDI was back online.

Not quite herself, though.

"EDI, what's our ETA to Earth?"

"At maximum FTL, we will reach Earth in 38 hours."

Tali sat at Traynor's console, monitoring the local comm traffic with impatience written on every line of her. "We should just kick them out the airlocks and go."

'Them' was everyone. The only people EDI was allowing to travel with them were Dr. Chakwas, Garrus, Tali, Joker, and Liara. Everyone else had been "transferred" to the SSV Moscow for "Temporary Duty as Assigned". It was a very empty ship.

"Soon, Tali'Zorah. I have sent drones to … encourage … the slower crew members."

It was soon – less than 15 minutes later, they had received their departure clearance from the fleet; Garrus shook on his feet as he felt the Normandy swinging around toward Sol. With a palpable lurch, Joker took them to FTL without bothering with any gentleness or finesse.

Tali sighed as she stalked toward the bridge. "38 hours – I'm coming home."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -

EARTH - ARCTURUS - THESSIA - PALAVEN - TUCHANKA - SUR'KESH - RANNOCH

5 Days 10 Hours after Crucible

"It is with deepest regrets that the Sol Systems Alliance announces the death of Commander Shepard. A lifelong soldier, she gave her life 5 Solar days ago to destroy the Reaper threat. Her body was found 3 days ago, and she was pronounced dead upon arrival at the hospital facility.

We announce and commemorate her passing by declaring the day of the Crucible activation an annual day of mourning and contemplation. Her life and actions touched us all.

Be strong – stand together in your communities, but remember her legacy; a legacy of unity. She brought every race together to fight a terrible foe, but we cannot let her achievement slip out of our grasp. We are still a galaxy united – we face no foe but ourselves. In her memory, the Provisional Council has sent the following proposal to the civilian government of each member race: let us commit ourselves to rebuilding the galaxy as friends and neighbors, allies in more than name. Remember her sacrifice, and the sacrifice of every soldier of every race.

Rest in Peace."

/ - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / - / -


	8. The Candle-Stick Maker

The afternoon air shimmered with heat, radiating up from the stones below. There were few people about in the streets – the financial district had closed at lunch for the holiday, but there were always some who had to work late – like her.

The Tikkun sun felt hot on her skin, even through her environment suit. Her short fingers tapped out a command on her omni, bringing the security gate down inside the nondescript building. With everything locked up, she turned and started walking home; it was the mid-afternoon on Rannoch; 11 April 2190.

She moved with purpose though the mostly empty streets, and the few people who passed her nodded politely – one young marine, obviously home on leave, even stopped and saluted. That she was a veteran was obvious: 'military bearing' was written in even line of her posture, in spite of the slight limp in her right leg. It would have been faster to take a shuttle, or even the private car that she kept in the garage at home – but the walking was good for her, the doctors said, and she enjoyed having the strength to do so. It was only a few miles, anyway.

She tuned her omni to the news broadcasts as she walked; she found herself settling into an old familiar walking cadence out of habit.

"The Council arrived in the Tikkun system as scheduled today, the last stop on their galaxy-wide condolences tour in honor of the life and death of Commander Shepard. Today is her birthday; she would have been 36 years old. The Council's Ship, Normandy, is the same vessel that Shepard commanded while alive. The Normandy will remain at Rannoch through the rest of the week.

"Turning to galactic travel news, the joint Turian-Salarian restoration fleet this week announced the reactivation of their 50th relay pair. Working from a theory first put forward by a Salarian STG member, the team has restored a number of important relay pairs that originated at the former location of the Citadel. They credit their success to the mission logs of Commander Shepard, which led them on a 2 year trip to the Prothean world of Ilos; computer records contained in their facility showed that before their deaths, the Protheans had created at least one known relay pair. The team used those records to increase the successful reactivation rate of the Relays.

"The Citadel itself remains in orbit around Earth as the Asari and Human engineering corps attempt to restore it to full functionality. The last report from their summit revealed that they have completed a full map of the station, including the tunnels used by the Keepers before their death, but have yet to regain full control or determine how to move it through the relays back to the Widow system. The annual memorial service for those civilians killed when the Reapers took control of the station has been planned for next month, giving the Council time to return from their trip to Rannoch. The Citadel Survivors Association has chosen Conrad Verner to represent them for the second year in a row.

"Turning to financial news, the Omega Consortium announced yesterday the first yield from their newest mining operation in the former Terminus systems; with element zero in such high demand due to the ongoing repair efforts, this represents a significant return for their investors, many of whom are Council governments. Let's go to our financial analyst, Ms. Orianna Lawson."

"Thanks Anatalia. The Omega Consortium, like the rest of the former Terminus organizations, has become quite legitimate since …"

She shut off the omni with a slight chuckle. Today of all days, she wasn't going to listen to work-talk on her way home.

The walk became harder as she left the city limits. With the advent of mass-effect physics, the Quarian people had let much of the land between cities return to its natural condition. The trail between her house and the edge of town was twisty and rocky, but it gave her a chance to stretch her legs. The small sign as she stepped onto the path announced that she was now leaving 'Legion's Landing'.

/ - / - / - / -

The house on the bluffs overlooking the sea was an oddity, to say the least. Built mostly in the antique Quarian architectural style, it had bits and pieces of other styles – the wide wrap-around porch, for example, could only have come from Earth while the carefully-cultivated garden practically screamed "Asari". The roof of the house was clustered with aircars and shuttles in a variety of markings; a Turian diplomatic vessel, a battered old Kodiak, and a sleek Geth-made craft stood out among the assortment. The path from the rooftop landing area led down into the gardens and ended at a wide, manually operated doorway. In the doorframe were two roughly broken halves of a smooth round stone, slightly separated.

Liara stood in the foyer, clad in a simple white and gold gown. She was uncharacteristically disconnected – no omni bracelet on her wrist, no chirping earpiece. She smiled warmly as Garrus entered.

"Garrus, my old friend. I'm glad to see you again."

"Liara, lovely as ever. We really should try to get together more often than once a year."

She nodded, a mock-thoughtful look on her face. "I don't know – could you really stand to leave Palaven?"

His mandibles twitched in amusement. "Well, how I'll ever tear myself away from the endless bureaucracy I'll never know."

They hugged, and he moved into the house to make room for the next guests, right behind him. Admiral Hackett didn't appear to have aged a day, and Liara said so.

He snorted. "Well, if must be all the conventional FTL travel, then, because I swear it's been more than a year since I was here last." He shook her hand. "Dr. T'Soni, a pleasure as always."

"Ditto, Admiral. And Joker – how lovely to see you."

Joker walked in, leaning on his social cane. From the waist down, he was fitted into a powered assistance system that practically walked for him, but he claimed to like the way he looked with the cane. "Distinguished!" he'd argued; the portable holoprojector strapped to his wrist had denied it with a flat "Elderly."

"Hey, Liara! Good to see you."

"How's EDI and the Normady?"

"Oh, same as ever. She's become the unofficial second Alliance Councilor; Hackett's joked about turning the job over to her since she's, you know, the physical manifestation of the council chambers."

A chirp at his wrist, and a drone detached from his omni – shimmering into a holographic projection of EDI's old body (clothed, this time in a light summer dress).

"I have repeatedly turned Admiral Hackett's offer down. I am happy to be doing important work. Granted, I'd like to join the Relay fleet if the opportunity should present itself; but that will have to wait until the Shepard Building has been completed in London."

Liara chuckled. "Well, they could certainly use your expertise out there, but we're happy to have you with us."

The two of them moved in, and Liara continued – a one-woman reception line. Kasumi and Warrant Officer Traynor, a not-so-secret couple, arrived in a subtly expensive limousine; Grunt and Wrex dropped from a hovering Krogan dropship before it moved off to land at the spaceport. Zaeed strolled in, finally retired, and puffing a cigar as big around as a baby's wrist; Jack followed so soon that it was almost impossible to have come in her own car. Samara, in her robes as the head of the Justicar Order, smiled freely as she greeted old friends. Vega and Williams entered together with an easy familiarity that spoke of their years working together in London. She was in her off-duty uniform while he moved easily in a tailored suit. Liara shook his bad hand, feeling the shifting grip of the Geth-designed prosthetic.

"James – a pleasure to see you at last."

"Well, I've been real busy back on Earth – but you know I wouldn't miss this."

Ashley embraced her without a word; Liara returned it and smiled. "Ashley – I'm so glad you're here."

"Me too. I almost missed this year, too, but I knew I had to get away somehow."

Liara cocked her head to the side – Williams was the theater-commander for the Sol system, and was usually extremely busy. "How did you get away?"

It was Vega who grinned, looking her up and down with a lusty appreciation. "Chica here waked out, handed two pads of orders to the poor yeoman and left without saying a word."

Ashley grinned, blushing a bit in embarrassment. "Well, I knew if I said anything I'd just get caught by some other damn thing. So I left, and caught a lift."

"And here we are!" the voice belonged to Cortez. "Sorry, had to finish shutting the old girl down."

"Steven, how good to see you again. Please, make yourself at home."

The kitchen and living room were packed with people; drinks were in every hand. The murmur of a dozen conversations fell slowly silent as Tali came down the stairs from the upper level.

She was absolutely beautiful – a simple off-white dress, the same color as her milky eyes, flattered her figure; her hair had grown long, and was held back by a silver band at the nape of her neck. She wore a pair of elegant silver bangles at her wrists, and no other jewelry. Her lips quirked up in a smile as she looked over her gathered friends.

"Hello everyone! I'm so glad you could all make it today." Her voice was as smooth as ever, but unmodulated by the environment suit. "Two weeks ago was the fourth anniversary of the Crucible, and the end of the Reaper war. We gather today to celebrate the life of the woman who made that possible, and wish her spirit glad tidings on the day of its birth. But I would be lying if I said that was the only reason we have gathered. I have a very special announcement to make, and while I wish that Shepard could be here to say it with me, I know that she would want me to tell you immediately." She took a deep breath, her composure breaking a little. "I am getting married, today, and you're all guests. In fact, you're the only guests."

The silence shattered as each person broke into claps and cheering; Tali sought Liara's eyes and smiled – got a warm, wide grin in return.

She entered through the back door, the dust of the winding trail still on her environment suit. Her limp was a little more pronounced now, but she made her way to the stairs and went up one at a time. When she reached the landing, she unmasked; her hood was a pale blue with silver bars in a hashed pattern. Tali's smooth, soft hands pushed the hood back as her lover claimed her in a deep kiss. The cheering from below started up again; the loud "Whooo-OOOO!" could only be from Vega.

When they separated, the woman turned and pulled her hood down. She looked over the assembled guests with a familiar sardonic smile. "Sorry I'm late …" Shepard said, brushing her fingers through her jaw-length hair. "I got caught at the office."

/ - / - / - / -

The ceremony had been beautiful – a mix of Earth traditions and Quarian customs, performed by Admiral Hackett. Liara had stood with her sister as honored kin, and Ashley stood with Shepard. Their first wedded kiss had been disrupted, however, as an already tipsy Vega started the whole group singing 'Happy Birthday'. Shepard burst into laughter, spearing him with a glare but unable to stop herself.

The 'reception' had quieted down – small knots of conversation scattered through the house. Shepard found herself with Kasumi and Traynor by the fireplace, warming her aching bones. She grinned at the sudden memory from the party four years ago.

"Commander, it's been a few years … have you ever thought about coming back?" Samantha was looking into her glass as she asked.

"Nope. Not even a little."

"But why the deception?" Kasumi joined in. "I mean, don't get me wrong- I love this little trick of yours, hiding in plain sight like this – but don't you think the galaxy still needs you?"

Shepard shrugged elaborately, swirling her scotch. "Yeah, probably – but they're going to have to do without me; I earned my retirement the hard way."

"But you're a hero!" Sam exclaimed. "You could be doing so much for people!"

Shepard held up her hand. "I could – and I did. But if I stay in the public eye, they'll expect me to solve their problems for them. Hell, it was like that during the war. 'Shepard, save my parents colony' or 'Shepard, my sister's clutch needs heaters'. I was the go-to problem solver for an entire galaxy. The best thing I can do is die a martyr that they can point to for inspiration. They'll whitewash my history and use me as a model to help keep the galaxy together. Hell, Wrex is on the Council – you think there would be a Krogan Councilor if they weren't doing it to honor my memory? They'll forget me eventually, but by the time they do there will have always been a Krogan on the council."

Kasumi and Sam exchanged a look; Shepard laughed and tried again.

"Look, it's like this – take the Relay fleet, for example. If I was alive, would the Turians and Salarians be cooperating like this? Would they have mounted their own expedition to Ilos, or would they have sent Commander Shepard, hero?" She exaggerated herself as she spoke, arms akimbo and chest puffed out. Her suit coat had been shed, leaving her in just a vest and pants. The short sleeves of her shirt showed the mess of scar tissue still present on the tops of her arms – the underside was smooth and unlined, studded with cybernetic access points.

"A human leader once said that 'old generals don't die, they just fade away'. Well, I don't want to fade. By letting them all think I'm dead, they get more done in my memory than they'd do if I were still present." She took a deep drink, the pale liquid burning her throat. "Besides, this is a new galaxy. Krogan and Salarians cooperating, Geth and Quarians living side by side. Hell, the Batarians are back in the Council's graces. My era is over, Sam – the Butcher of Torfan doesn't belong to this world, and I'm glad for it."

Liara's voice startled them all. "And besides which, if you were still alive I'd need someone to run the Rannoch office." She grinned as she joined them on the low couch.

Shepard laughed, raising her glass in salute. "Yes, yes, boss lady. You were right, I couldn't have quit cold turkey."

"I know I was right, but it's gratifying to hear you admit it." A mischievous lilt in her voice. "I think marriage is suiting you already."

The sun had finished setting when they all gathered again – on the terrace outside, with the stars so clearly visible in the thin atmosphere. Shepard and Tali stood with the sea behind them, glasses raised.

"To my lovely bride …" Shepard began. "Tali Zhora Shepard vas Normandy."

"Tali'Shepard!" they answered, toasting and drinking.

Shepard turned to her, smiling softly – Tali bit her lip and took a deep draught from the offered cup. The drink forgotten, they kissed slowly.

"Welcome home."


	9. Authors Notes and Thanks

**_An Extended Author's Note:_**

To all of you, especially those who have followed this work since the beginning, thank you. I started this project by writing for myself – my need for closure, my anger at the ending – and have ended it writing for all of you. Your feedback and appreciation have been the fuel that kept me going. I would specifically like to thank "Prizzma" and "DarthCruciare" for their early praise, and my sole real-world reader, "Shadow" – who kept reminding me that they were characters, not just bodies to be posed according to my depraved whims.

I would like to take this opportunity to stand on my soap-box and point out some truly excellent works on this site that explore other stories, other ideas:

For the classic **Femshep / Liara**, I recommend two stories and authors. For a darker, somewhat more brutal take on the characters I cannot recommend "Glacial Fire" by the talented "Owelpost" strongly enough. For a lighter – if no less kinky – take on things, the excellent "Love Bound" series by "Jayden Scott" is an fun way to pass the time.

**Femshep / Garrus** is not one that appeals to me very strongly, but "Curiosity" by "Quondam" is a truly funny, interesting look at the relationship. It's an unusual perspective, and a good one.

**Femshep / Traynor** is the cutest pairing in the series, bar none, and it's explored in wonderful color by three stories – "Range Detail" by "Jayden Scott", which is a perfect one-shot; "Queen's Gambit Accepted" by "FahRENheit2006" – possibly the only story to make IP filtering seem exciting. "For Winners Only" by "Rae Itha" is another wonderful one-shot, far kinkier than the above thus far, and so perfect fodder. You may be noticing a theme.

"Armor" by "MountainGoats" is another **Femshep / Tali** fic, and it's shaping up to be everything I wanted my story to be, but better. I highly recommend it, and hope that it continues to update. "The Captain" by "Jayden Scott" helped inspire me to write a kinky fic of my own, and it's measurably better than my humble offering.

**Mordin** is a very hard character to write – even harder to write well. "The Importance of Thermal Clips" by "rent-a-bird" was perfect, and had me laughing hysterically for minutes.

I'm not sure how to categorize the very ambitious **"Interstitium"** by "AssaultSloth". His grasp of the characters' speech is impressive, but his ability to - to me, at least - accurately tell their personal stories is even more so. Most notably, this fic was the first I read that described how and why Cerberus would resurrect Shepard intact – and without space magic. I credit hi/r for their work, and formally note that their views on Shep's resurrection informed my own story. Many thanks, and equally recommended - the only reason it's at the end of this list of recommended reading is that it's _not_ about a relationship. Odd man out, but an excellent read none the less.

I hope that I didn't put-off too many people with my writing style. I knew that I could never string together a consistent story without jumping directly from interesting scene to interesting scene, because I'm rubbish at writing transitions. I also wanted to avoid two traps common in amateur writing; First, I tried to avoid novelizing the events already depicted and second, I tried to avoid writing scenes that didn't advance the story. The Mass Effect games are masterpieces of interactive storytelling, and I give full credit to their writing team (right up until the end). I didn't need to show some of the interactions, because the games did that for me. Mass Effect 3 was especially good about showing all the different character interactions in some way or another, so it didn't seem productive to rehash them. I cried – CRIED – when Mordin died, but that scene was perfect and powerful all by itself. I didn't need my ham-fisted attempt to cram it into my story just because it was powerful. Rather, I mentioned the event – and then used it as a stepping stone to continue telling THIS story, the story of Shepard and Tali. By the same token, some truly great scenes had to be omitted because they were parts of other stories – they didn't drive this one forward.

I thank you all – from the heart – for your attention and your approval. Thank you.

~bpmitche

* * *

What follows is the incredibly nerdy, somewhat technical, break down of exactly why I felt that the ending was a let down. If you've had enough of my stupid talking, you can stop here – I've said my peace. For the rest of you, read on!

My primary objection to the ending of Mass Effect was the total incoherence. This Google Doc: goo . gl / z7hxC makes a lot of truly excellent points regarding the events on-screen, and without rehashing their arguments I'd like to draw attention to some things. First, every time we have encountered the Reapers or their agents prior to the "Catalyst", they tell us that their purposes and ideas are so far beyond us that we wouldn't be able to understand them – then the Catalyst comes and says "oh, no, it's this perfectly simple thing I'm telling you, in two lines of dialogue." Second, the choices at the end: who, EXACTLY, built the magic reaper-destroying power conduit ON THE CITADEL? Where, EXACTLY, in the citadel's schematics are the two levers that – if the chosen magic human puts her hands on them – allow you to control the unstoppable killing machines? How, EXACTLY, does diving into a river of hot molten energy beam magically transform life? For that matter, what EXACTLY, is "Hybrid DNA", and how does it work? Are people suddenly computer programs, their bodies just like Geth Platforms? What process, EXACTLY, determines when a lump of metal and plastic is a tool and when it's a synthetic intelligence and ready for uplifting into hybrid DNA? Remembering that the Reapers built the Citadel, and that the Keepers remove or destroy any sign of previous inhabitants after each purge (with the notable - and sole - exception of the "Relay monument", which they might plausibly have mistaken for something that belonged there), why would the Reapers themselves build their own magic death switches?

Compounding that question, the Catalyst says that the docking of the Crucible has created new possibilities that didn't exist before. Why – aren't the reapers capable of building a crucible of their very own if they wanted? Couldn't they have done exactly this millions of years ago, when they first discovered the plans for the Crucible? And if these possibilities are so new, when and how did the magic buttons get built, installed, hooked up to the Citadel? You know, the magic buttons that perform a function that couldn't have existed before docking the Crucible?

Taken together, these questions paint a picture of the team behind the ending that is less than flattering. In order to not have a coronary every time I thought of it, I began this fiction seeking to look for logical, rational reasons behind the endings. No matter how hard I tried, no logical purpose exists for allowing someone to control the Reapers – no sentient creature would build in a "reprogram me for funsies" switch into its central control center - and the Reapers shouldn't have a central anything. Sovereign says that each Reaper is a nation unto itself; why would they have a master control center if they're all functionally independent?

No amount of science or biology could explain Hybrid DNA – so the synthesis ending gets chalked up to "Bullshit" as well. That leaves Destruction – which actually makes sense.

A weapon, designed and refined over the Eons, with one purpose: destroy the reapers. How? Massive energy pulse, tuned or directed at the level of sophisticated hyper-advanced hardware that makes up the Reapers, their constructs, and their troops. Okay – so the Crucible is a giant energy-field generator. So the original design is a one-shot device – big blast o' energy, and the nearest reapers are destroyed. That's no good – we see it using the relays in all of the endings; why? What if the crucible only works once? No, because no species would build a failure-prone magic weapon – that's stupid.

One explanation is that the Crucible would need to be built in secret, far from the Reapers. Once built, it would need to be taken into combat and used – but that's too risky. The device could be destroyed by Reapers, and then where would you be? No – the best use would be to somehow have it built far from the fighting, and work at a distance – which implies using the Relays, since every civilization that has ever contributed to this has used the relays and mass effect physics to get around. They wouldn't be capable of inventing any other kind of FTL travel, so it would have to be relays. And as we've already seen established in the series, the Citadel is the center of all relay travel – the Reapers usual MO is to hit the citadel first, cut off politics, trade, and communication, then shut down the relays for everyone but themselves – Javik, the Vigil VI on Ilos, and Sovereign itself all say the same thing. This implies that the Citadel is the heart of the relay network. So the weapon gets redesigned to use the Citadel to modulate the Relay network to get its reaper-be-gone beam to every part of the galaxy.

Okay – so far, so good. And in some low EMS endings, we see the relays destroyed – which is understandable, since low EMS means that the Crucible takes damage during the approach to the Citadel, so it's misfiring. Okay, that's easy enough to believe, and in high EMS endings the relays are fine except that their Eezo cores are gone. Not destroyed – we've seen what happens when a relay core gets destroyed, and this looks nothing like the Alpha / Bahak relay explosion. The eezo is just … gone. Why? Well, the galaxy is a huge place. The amount of energy it would take to create a burst of energy that goes everywhere is almost incalculable, and there's no way the crucible packs that much power. Again, we default to the most likely explanation: The Crucible's energy blast, modulated by the relay-controlling-citadel, consumes the Eezo core of the relay in order to repeat the signal to the next relay(s). Each relay consumed is basically starting the energy blast all over again – NOT transmitting the original blast through the relays.

Everybody got that? Good, there will be a test.

So, now we've established a logical reason for the crucible, how it would work, and why it does what we see it do ( in the only plausible ending ). But there's a few more things we have to explain. The Catalyst warns us that the Geth would be destroyed, as would Shepard. Why? Because they're synthetic? Let's back that up and look at it.

Since we're examining the crucible using logic and physics, we need to establish how it chooses its targets. It seems easy enough – examine enough pieces of dead reapers / husks / harvesters / etc and you'll find the common element or elements that make up Reaper tech. Something unique to them and only them, something they didn't use in the relays or the citadel. Why not the hyper-advanced Citadel or Relays? Because each cycle studies the relays and citadel, and learns _EXACTLY ENOUGH_ advanced science to get Mass Effect physics and relay travel down. In our own cycle, nobody even knows how the citadel works, or why, or what it's even made of – but the Protheans not only knew, they made their own mass relay (The Conduit from Ilos). Yet, even with the ability to build their own Relays, the Protheans were unable to defeat the Reapers.

Since the Reapers built all this with the EXPRESS PURPOSE of speeding technological development, we have to assume that they would build these things to be as primitive as possible while still working forever. If they built the relays and citadel the same way they built themselves, a clever enough cycle could build their own reaper-type starships and fight on equal footing – which is counterproductive. So the relays and citadel must be much more primitive than the Reapers themselves. So the crucible energy wouldn't destroy them – because they're not built like Reapers. Do you follow? If I build a laser that only melts "Metal 1" and point it at "metal 2", nothing will happen – even though they're both metals, metal 2 is different from metal 1, and so the metal-1-destroying-laser wouldn't do anything to it. For the same reasons, the Geth MUST be immune to the crucible. The Geth were built by the Quarians, out of local materials, and in the local style. They continued to build themselves in the same way, using locally available materials. Since the games tell us that the Geth are rarely seen outside the veil, we must assume that they use materials found in the veil. Since Rannoch was formed out of the stellar dust that makes up the rest of the Perseus Veil, we have to assume that they're using the same or similar materials as the original Geth, and Quarian spacecraft, and etc. Okay? If this is true, then why would our reaper-be-gone affect the Geth in any way? They're not built according to reaper spec, they're not built out of reaper metal or hyper-advanced tech – they're our very own technology. By the time the ending rolls around, the ONLY thing advanced about the Geth is that they've become truly sentient – thanks to Reaper code.

BUT! How could a blast of energy read a mind? How could it interface with the Geth and determine that they were using Reaper code? Code is software – software is 1's and 0's running on hardware. Hardware is voltage changes and soldered connectors – so how would the beam detect anything other than voltage changes? How would it know to melt the reapers and the geth, but not the starships of the organic races? Or their guns? Or their armor? Or their buildings? It's an inconsistency, so we must discard it. The Geth are fine – will be fine, unless they began using Reaper-material or metal or technology in their physical platforms.

Finally, Shepard. Full of cybernetics, and the Catalyst tells us that we're part synthetic as well – so we would be destroyed. Refering to the Geth argument above, I say no. If Shep was rebuilt using reaper parts, you'd be indoctrinated by the time ME3 started - just like the illusive man. If you were rebuilt using reaper-inspired tech, you'd be far and away more complex and more advanced technology than ever seen before. But that can't be true, for three reasons.

Reason #1 - Cerberus put you back together again. This means that their scientists had to have access to enough of this technology to be familiar with how it works – Shepard is incredibly valuable to them, they wouldn't risk fucking up and destroying you with technology they don't understand enough to use. Furthermore, you're revived to fight collectors – who are discovered to be Reaper agents fairly quickly. If Cerberus had enough reaper stuff around to build Shep out of it, they would be indoctrinated already – and they wouldn't want you to fight Reapers, or their minions.

Reason #2 – you can upgrade yourself. In ME2, you find upgrades for stuff – including yourself. This implies that whatever cybernetics you're made of, improvements can still be made. Since we're assuming that Reaper tech or reaper-inspired tech would be super advanced, this suggests that your cybernetics are at best advanced by our standards, but not bleeding-edge top-of-the-line – otherwise, improvement wouldn't be possible with our level of technology.

Reason #3 – Sheps implants are inconsistent with either husk-style implants or Dr. Eva Core's robot body. Dr. Chakwas can even do surgery to improve your appearance by tinkering with your implants – which suggests, at least to me, that your implants are not hyper advanced, just very thorough. We refer again to the Geth argument – how and why would the anti-reaper energy have any effect on non-reaper metal and parts?

I also rejected the idea that the Normandy would crash – why? No other ships crash, and the whole sequence is absurd. The games tell us that relay transit is nearly instantaneous, and of fixed speed. Why and how would the energy travel faster through a relay than the ship? And since the first thing Traynor tells you when you come aboard is that they pulled out all the Cerberus tech – everything that could possibly have been reaper-based or reaper-inspired – why would the beam do anything to the ship at all? This includes EDI – again, she's code stored in hardware. That hardware is advanced, but WELL within our own limited technological understanding (she was originally the Luna base VI, home grown). The exception is her body – obviously reaper-tastic, it would have been disabled by the energy just like the rest of the Reapers. EDIT: I forgot to update this note after I read more about EDI's creation. Her actual core computing hardware was built based on parts of Sovereign, so I concede that she might have been damaged by the anti-reaper beam. I chose to have said damage be non-fatal, because in the game she comments that her personality has spread to every system and subsystem in the ship. Still, any physical change at all would upset the quantum state, and would create a new personality. I hope I handled that well.

EDIT 2: It has also been pointed out to me that I never explained the Citadel opening. This was intentional; the careful reader will notice that I also didn't include any mention of Javik in the ending scenes. There are two ways to explain this; one, Javik is the one who makes it to the Citadel and opens the arms - he dies carrying out his revenge. Two, the Crucible - built to interface with the Citadel in a cycle when the citadel-first plan must have happened normally - transmitted the arm-opening code to the citadel and thus to the Keepers. After all, if the cycle that first incorporated the Citadel into the plans knew they needed it, they would also know that they needed to be able to control it. The Protheans eventually came to understand the Citadel and the Relays (including the ability to sabotage the communication between the Citadel, Reapers, and Keepers), so his doesn't seem too far fetched.

So there you have it – all the reasons I objected to the ending(s), and the things I specifically sought to address in my writing. I hope that I conveyed these assumptions in the text without having to explain them – it wouldn't have been in character for them to know how the device works, or why.


End file.
